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WINTER   IN    THE    WEST. 


BY   A   NEW-YORKER. 


Where  can  I  journey  to  your  secret  springs, 
Eternal  Nature  ?     Onward  still  I  press, 
Follow  thy  windings  still,  yet  sigh  for  more. 

GOETHK. 


IN     TWO     VOLUMES. 
VOL.  I. 


NEW-YORK: 

PUBLISHED   BY   HARPER   &    BROTHERS, 

NO.    8  2     CLIFF-STREET. 

18  35. 


[Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1835,  by  Charles 
F.  Hoffman,  in  the  Office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New-York.] 


re . 


?/7.7 


CJ 


PREFACE. 


Several  of  these  letters  have  already  appeared  in  the 
New- York  American; — the  favourable  reception  they 
have  met  with  has  induced  the  writer  to  complete  the 
series  and  publish  them  in  the  present  form.  In  preparing 
them  for  publication,  he  has  thought  proper  to  illustrate 
some  of  the  facts  contained  in  them,  by  observations  de- 
rived from  other  sources  or  made  subsequent  to  their 
date.  These  additions  the  author  has  preferred  to  place 
in  an  appendix,  rather  than  imbody  them  with  the  ori- 
ginal matter,  as  he  feared  that  whatever  attraction  his 
sketches  of  scenery  and  manners  might  possess  would 
evaporate  upon  throwing  them  into  a  different  form,  and 
their  chief  merit  as  first  and  faithful  impressions  would 
be  lost.  The  eloquent  writings  of  Mr.  Flint,  the  graphic 
sketches  of  Judge  Hall,  and  the  valuable  scientific  re- 
searches of  Mr.  Schoolcraft,  Professor  Keating,  and  the 
lamented  Say,  have  already  made  the  regions  described 
in  these  pages  well  known  to  the  public  ;  but  there  is  an 
ever-salient  freshness  in  the  theme  of  "  The  Far  West," 
which  prevents  its  becoming  trite  or  tiresome ;  and  as 
the  author  believes  himself  to  be  the  first  tourist  who  has 
taken  a  winter  view  of  scenes  upon  the  Indian  frontier,  he 
trusts  that  this  circumstance  will  impart  some  degree  of 
novelty  to  his  descriptions  in  that  quarter,  while  the 
romantic  beauty  of  the  region  described  nearer  home 
will  bear  its  own  recommendation  with  it. 


WINTER    IN    THE    WEST. 


LETTER  I. 

Easton,  Pennsylvania,  Oct.  17. 


My  dear 


My  journey  has  not  as  yet  furnished  an  incident 
worthy  of  being  entered  into  the  diary  of  the  most 
unambitious  tourist.  Still  I  take  the  first  oppor- 
tunity of  fulfilling  the  promise  given,  when  starting 
on  the  wide  excursion  I  meditate,  of  writing  to  my 
friends  from  the  different  stages  of  the  route,  and 
describing  its  features  with  sufficient  minuteness 
for  those  who  take  an  interest  in  my  letters  to  ac- 
company their  writer  in  his  wanderings.  With 
which  of  my  friends,  with  whom  breathing,  my 
dearest ,  can  I  better  commence  my  little  nar- 
rative than  with  one  who  will  onlv  regard  its  details 
with  the  eye  of  affection — unmindful  alike  of  their 
want  of  intrinsic  interest,  and  the  unattractive  form 
in  which  they  may  be  conveyed,  so  they  be  but 
a  faithful  record  of  my  wayfaring. 

VOL.  I. A 


SZ  A     WINTER     IN     THE    WEST. 

Our  route  hither  from  New-Brunswick  (or 
Rougemont,  as  some  one  proposes  calling  it  from 
the  colour  of  the  soil)  was  as  uninviting  as  a  rainy, 
disagreeable  day,  bad  roads,  and  a  country  neither 
fertile  nor  picturesque  could  make  it.  Occasion- 
ally, indeed,  glimpses  of  the  Raritan  gave  anima- 
tion to  the  scene,  as,  sparkling  restlessly  between 
its  cold  brown  banks,  it  rushes  like  an  ill-matched 
bride  from  their  dreary  embrace  to  sully  its  pure 
waters  in  the  marsh  through  which  it  passes  to  the 
sea.  These  glimpses,  however,  are  but  transient, 
and  for  the  remainder  of  the  drive  but  few  natural 
objects  presented  themselves  to  induce  one  to  dis- 
pute that  quaint  Indian  tradition  which  avers,  that 
when  the  Manitou  had  finished  making  the  rest  of 
this  mighty  continent,  he  slapped  from  his  fingers 
the  mud  and  gravel  which  form  this  part  of  New- 
Jersey. 

We  reached  a  straggling  village,  called  Jackson- 
ville, about  nightfall,  at  a  low-roofed  unpretending 
looking  stone  inn,  where  we  had  a  capital  supper 
— of  which  buckwheat-cakes,  not  quite  so  large  as 
a  New-York  grass-plat,  formed  no  mean  ingredient 
— and  slept  in  sheets  of  snow.  To  this  auspicious 
characteristic  their  properties  in  other  respects 
bore  a  resemblance,  as  I  afterward  discovered, 
which  might  readily  be  dispensed  with.     I  awoke 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  3 

at  dawn,  with  rheumatic  pains  in  every  part  of  my 
bones,  and  found,  what  had  escaped  me  the  night 
before,  that  every  particle  of  the  covering  of  my 
bed  was  as  wet  as  if  it  had  been  transferred  at  once 
from  the  hands  of  the  laundress  to  my'kbed,  with- 
out undergoing  the  dilatory  process  of  drying.  I 
was  glad  to  get  at  once  into  the  saddle,  and  mount- 
ing one  of  the  led  horses,  it  took  a  warm  trot  of  a 
dozen  miles  to  relax  my  aching  muscles,  and  make 
me  anticipate  my  breakfast  with  any  thing  like 
satisfaction. 

The  morning,  though  cloudy,  broke  beautifully. 
The  country,  as  we  approached  the  borders  of 
Pennsylvania,  increased  in  interest.  Richly  wooded 
hills,  with  here  and  there  a  fertile  slope  evincing  a 
high  state  of  cultivation,  shone  out  beneath  the  fitful 
sky.  The  streams  from  the  uplands  were  more 
frequent,  and  their  currents  flowed  with  heightened 
animation.  The  farm-houses,  too,  became  more 
substantial  in  appearance  ;  and  their  gray-stone 
fronts,  standing  sometimes  in  a  clump  of  sycamores 
aloof  from  the  road,  betokened  the  quiet  com- 
fort of  their  inhabitants.  The  roads  indeed  were 
worse  than  indifferent — but  that,  though  a  sudden 
rain  soon  set  in,  did  not  prevent  our  enjoying  the 
clouded  but  still  beautiful  landscape. 

We  crossed  the  bridge  over  the  Delaware  to 


4  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

Easton  at  about  two  o'clock,  and  driving  to  the 
famous  inn  of  Mr.  White,  the  Cruttenden  of 
these  parts,  were  soon  safely  housed  in  his  hospit- 
able establishment.  Having  breakfasted  at  eleven, 
we  ordered  dinner  at  five,  and  strolled  out  to  see 
the  lions  of  the  place.  The  roar  of  a  waterfall  was 
the  first  thing  which  attracted  my  notice,  and  fol- 
lowing the  sound  I  soon  found  myself  near  the 
great  dam  over  the  Lehigh,  where,  at  its  junction 
with  the  Delaware,  back  water  is  created  for  the 
sake  of  supplying  the  Lehigh  Canal.  The  pond 
thus  formed,  which,  with  its  abrupt  banks,  and 
frowning  limestone  cliffs  wooded  to  the  top,  might 
almost  pass  for  a  small  natural  lake,  is  filled  with 
small  craft, — the  lubberly-looking  ark,  and  sharp 
clean-built  Durham  boat,  lying  moored  by  the  shore, 
with  numerous  light  skiffs  drawn  up  near  them. 
I  easily  procured  one  of  the  latter,  and  shooting 
under  the  chainbridge  which  spans  the  Lehigh,  the 
wind  and  current  carried  me  in  a  moment  past  stone 
wharves  heaped  with  anthracite  coal  to  the  brink 
of  the  dam.  The  sudden  slope  of  the  water  here 
had  an  awkward  look  about  it  which  reminded  me 
vividly  of  a  peep  I  once  took  from  a  row-boat  into 
"  the  Pot"  at  Hell-gate,  when  its  screwing  eddies 
carried  the  eye  with  a  strange  fascination  deep 
into  the  boiling  caldron.     Bending  heartily  to  my 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  5 

oars,  I  was  glad  to  leave  the  glassy  brim  that  sloped 
so  smoothly  to  destruction. 

The  operations  of  a  keel-boat  working  up  against 
the  rapid  current  of  the  Delaware  next  caught  my 
attention.  She  had  four  men  to  manage  her — the 
roughest,  hardiest  looking  set  of  fellows  I  ever  saw, 
broad-shouldered  and  brawny,  with  complexions 
like  copper,  and  having  no  covering  to  their  heads 
but  coarse  curly  hair,  matted  so  thick  that  it  looked 
as  if  the  stroke  of  a  sabre  might  almost  be  turned 
by  it.  The  strength  and  agility  of  these  fellows  is 
very  striking,  as  they  stride  along  the  gunwale  with 
their  long  poles,  and  twist  themselves  into  all  sorts 
of  positions  while  urging  their  unwilling  craft 
against  the  foaming  current.  After  they  had  gained 
and  passed  the  lock,  and  floated  into  the  basin 
where  my  boat  was  lying,  I  could  not  help  rowing 
near  theirs  to  examine  their  iron  frames  more  nar- 
rowly. I  was  just  making  up  my  mind  that  such 
a  collection  of  bold,  reckless,  impudent  faces  as 
were  borne  bv  these  worthies,  I  had  never  before 
seen,  when  my  surmises  in  physiognomy  were 
fully  confirmed  by  a  volley  of  billingsgate  which 
one  of  them  let  fly  at  me.  It  being  perfectly  in 
character  I  was  of  course  much  amused  at  it, 
and  by  gently  lying  on  my  oars  and  looking 
at  him,  incensed  my  amiable  acquaintance  to  a 

a2 


b  A     WINTER     IN    THE     WEST. 

degree  that  was  irresistibly  ludicrous.  I  waited 
till  he  was  exhausted ;  and  when  he  wound  up  by 
"  damning  my  spectacles,"  I  reflected  with  Dr. 
Franklin,  that  it  was  not  the  first  time  they  had 
saved  my  eyes  ;  and  mentally  consigning  the  fel- 
low to  the  tender  mercies  of  Hall  and  Trollope, 
pulled  for  the  berth  of  my  little  shallop,  and  soon 
after  regained  my  quarters. 

I  think  you  would  be  much  pleased  with  Easton. 
The  situation  of  the  village  itself  is  eminently 
happy — almost  picturesque — and  the  country 
around  it  delightful.  Imagine  a  lap  of  land,  not 
quite  a  mile  square,  embosomed  among  green  hills, 
bounded  by  two  fine  rivers  and  a  pretty  mill-stream 
— the  straight  rectangular  streets  now  terminating 
with  a  bold  bluff,  descending  so  immediately  to 
their  very  pavements  that  its  rocky  sides,  skirted 
with  copsewood,  seem  to  overhang  the  place,  and 
again  either  washed  by  one  of  the  streams  that  de- 
termine the  site  of  the  town,  or  facing  some  narrow 
ravine  which  leads  the  eye  off  through  a  wild  vista 
to  the  open  country  ;  and  the  remarkably  flourish- 
ing and  well-built  appearance  of  the  village  itself, 
with  its  two  bridges,  and  the  extensive  works  of 
the  Morris  and  the  Lehigh  Canals  adjacent, — and 
you  have  almost  as  favourable  a  combination  of 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  7 

rural  objects  and  city  improvements  as  could  well 
be  effected  on  one  spot. 

The  chief  buildings  are  the  County  Court-house, 
situated  in  a  fine  square  in  the  centre  of  the  place, 
and  the  Lafayette  College,  which,  from  a  command- 
ing position  over  the  Bushkill,  faces  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal streets.  The  latter  is  a  Manual  labour  institu- 
tion (a  term  I  need  hardly  explain  to  you),  recently 
incorporated,  and  likely  to  flourish  under  the  ener- 
getic superintendence  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Junkin,  its 
able  principal.  Easton,  as  you  are  probably 
aware,  is  celebrated  for  the  rich  mineralogical 
specimens  found  in  its  vicinity.  The  salubrity  of 
the  place,  as  I  am  informed  by  an  eminent  phy- 
sician, is  remarkable  ;  and  one  can  readily  believe 
in  its  exemption  from  most  of  the  fevers  of  the 
country,  from  the  fact  of  there  being  no  woodcock 
ground  within  five  miles  of  the  Court-house.  The 
site  was  chosen  and  the  town-plat  laid  out  by 
Penn,  a  town-monger  who,  if  he  did  cut  his  plans 
with  a  scissors  from  paper,  as  a  recent  foreign 
traveller  has  hinted  was  the  case  with  regard  to 
Philadelphia,  had  certainly  a  happy  knack  in 
adapting  the  model  to  the  locality.  The  de- 
scendants of  the  great  colonizer  are  still  said  to 
own  property  in  Easton,  while  the  peaceful  mem- 
bers  of  his   brotherhood,  in   our   day,   bless   his 


S  A     WINTER     IN      THE     WEST. 

memory  when  turning  up  the  jasper  arrow-head 
within  the  precincts  of  the  village ;  and  thank 
Heaven  for  the  teacher  whose  gentle  counsels 
withdrew  for  ever  from  this  lovely  valley  the  red 
archers  that  shot  them. 

Eagerly  as  I  am  now  treading  on  the  steps  of 
that  fated  race  to  their  fleeting  home  in  the  far 
west,  with  what  emotions  of  pleasure  shall  I  not 
count  every  returning  mile  that  will  bring  me  near 
vou. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 


LETTER  II. 

Rodrocksville,  Pa.,  Oct.  19. 

The  last  red  hues  of  sunset  were  just  dying  over 
the  western  extremity  of  the  road  we  had  long 
been  following,  when  a  herd  of  cattle,  under  the 
guidance  of  a  woolly-headed  urchin,  collecting  in- 
dolently around  an  extensive  farm-yard,  reminded 
us  alike  that  it  was  time  to  seek  shelter,  and  that 
one  was  at  hand.  A  few  paces  farther  brought  us 
to  the  door  of  a  large  stone  building,  displaying, 
with  the  usual  insignia  of  an  inn,  an  unwonted 
neatness  in  all  its  out-door  arrangements :  un- 
harnessing our  four-footed  fellow-travellers,  we 
proceeded,  in  spite  of  the  threatening  outcry  of  a 
huge  bandog  chained  at  its  entrance,  to  bestow 
them  comfortably  in  a  stable  near  at  hand. .  A 
Canadian  pony,  with  a  couple  of  goats,  the  com- 
panionable occupants,  seemed  hardly  to  notice  the 
intrusion ;  and  leaving  an  active  mulatto  ostler  to 
reconcile  any  difficulties  which  might  arise  be- 
tween our  pampered  steeds  and  a  sorry-looking 
jade  which  just  then  entered  to  claim  a  share  of 


10  A.     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

the  comforts  at  hand,  we  soon  ensconced  ourselves 
before  a  crackling  wood-iire  in  the  comfortable 
apartment  where  I  am  now  writing. 

Every  mile  of  our  route  to-day  has  given  some 
new  occasion  to   admire  the   scale   upon  which 
farming  is  conducted  in  Pennsylvania.    The  fences, 
indeed,  are  not  remarkable  for  the  order  in  which 
they  are  kept ;  but  while  the  enclosures  themselves 
are  tilled  with  a  nicety  which  preserves  the  utmost 
verge  of  a  field  from  shooting  up  into  weeds  or 
brushwood,  the  barns  into  which  their  harvests  are 
gathered  are  so  spaciously  and  solidly  built,  that 
they  want  only  architectural   design   to  rival  in 
appearance  the  most  ambitious  private  mansions. 
Stone  is  almost  the  only  material  used  here  in 
building;  and  the  massive  profusion  in  which  not 
only  the  barns,  but  the  smallest  outhouses  upon  the 
premises  of  these  sturdy  husbandmen,  are  piled 
upon  their  fertile  acres,  is  such  as  would  astonish 
and  delight  the  agriculturist  accustomed  only  to 
the  few  and  frail  structures  with  which  the  farmers 
of  most  other  sections  of  our  country  content  them- 
selves.   The  establishment  of  our  host  is  admirably 
supplied  with  these  lordly  appurtenances  in  which 
a  true  tiller  of  the  soil  may  so  justly  show  his  pride. 
The  huge  cathedral-looking  edifice  which  towers 
above  his  farm-yard  would  make  as  proud  a  temple 


A.     WINTER     IN     THE      WEST.  11 

as  could  be  well  reared  to  Ceres,  even  by  Tripto- 
Iemus  himself. 

The  most  picturesque  country  we  have  yet  seen 
is  that  immediately  around  Easton.  Indeed,  the 
first  view  that  opened  upon  us  when  gaining  the 
brow  of  a  wooded  hill,  about  half  a  mile  from  the 
town,  was  so  fine  as  to  make  us  forget  the  regret 
with  which  we  had  a  few  moments  before  bid 
adieu  to  our  prince  of  landlords  and  his  blooming 
daughters. 

The  Lehigh,  for  about  half  a  mile  in  extent, 
lay  in  the  form  of  a  crescent  beneath  us — a  wooded 
ravine  striking  down  to  either  horn,  and  undulating 
fields,  some  ruddy  with  buckwheat  stubble,  and 
some  green  from  the  newly-sprouting  wheat,  filled 
up  the  curves.  A  gray  stone-barn  stood  here  and 
there  on  an  eminence  against  the  bright  morning 
sky,  while  sheltered  below  on  the  alluvial  flats 
formed  by  the  river,  a  white-walled  cottage  might 
be  seen  reposing  by  its  cheerful  current.  The 
Lehigh  Canal,  winding  through  the  valley,  side  by 
side  with  the  river,  like  a  younger  sister  bent  on 
the  same  errand,  added  not  a  little,  when  viewed 
at  such  a  distance,  to  the  beauties  of  the  scene. 

We  took  our  breakfast  at  Bethlehem,  and  avail- 
ing myself  of  an  hour's  delay  while  the  horses 
were  feeding,  I  left  my  friend  puzzling  himself  over 


12  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  x 

a  German  newspaper,  and  strolled  off  to  look  at 
the  village.  It  is  a  place  of  considerable  interest, 
not  less  on  account  of  its  ancient  and  peculiar 
appearance  than  the  Moravian  institutions  which 
have  rendered  it  so  celebrated.  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  meet  with  Mr.  Seidel,  the  principal  of  the 
female  seminary,  who,  upon  my  asking  him  some 
trivial  question  about  that  excellent  establishment, 
offered,  in  the  most  polite  manner,  though  I  was 
wholly  unknown  to  him,  to  show  me  through  the 
building.  It  is  a  plain  stone  structure,  of  some 
eighty  feet  in  length,  subdivided  internally  into 
lecture-rooms  and  dormitories  like  some  of  our 
colleges ;  one  range  of  small  apartments  being  used 
entirely  as  washing  rooms  by  the  pupils,  and  having 
all  the  necessary  furniture  for  that  purpose  neatly 
arranged  about  each.  These,  like  every  other  part 
of  the  establishment,  have  their  peculiar  superin- 
tendent, and  standing  thus  distinctly  by  themselves, 
form  an  essential  feature  in  the  economy  of  the  in- 
stitution, and  with  the  extensive  play-grounds  in 
the  rear  of  the  building,  evince  the  attention  which 
is  paid  to  the  health  and  personal  habits,  as  well  as 
the  intellectual  improvement  of  its  inmates.  I  was 
shown  into  the  school-rooms  of  the  several  classes, 
and  had  ample  opportunity,  as  the  ruddy  bright- 
eyed  occupants  rose  to  receive  my  conductor,  to 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  13 

observe  the  happy  effect  of  the  life  they  led  upon 
their  personal  appearance.  A  fresher,  fairer  as- 
semblage of  youthful  beauty  has  rarely  greeted 
my  eyes.  Several  of  the  apartments  were  fur- 
nished with  pianos,  and  my  curious  entrance  into 
these  smiling  domains  startled  more  than  one  young 
musician  from  her  morning's  practising.  I  was,  as 
you  may  suppose,  a  little,  a  very  little,  confused  at 
being  thus  exposed  to  the  full  broadside  gaze  of  a 
hundred  "  boarding-school  misses."  This,  though, 
however  it  might  forbid  my  examining  their  fea- 
tures in  detail,  did  not  prevent  me  from  observing 
that  their  general  expression  was  happy  and  natural 
— two  sources  of  attraction  not  so  very  common  in 
the  sex,  but  that  they  will  still  strike  one  even  when 
displayed,  as  was  the  case  in  this  instance,  in  mere 
children. 

I  subsequently  visited  the  burial-ground  of  the 
place,  which  I  contemplated  with  no  slight  interest. 
The  disposal  of  the  dead  is  as  true  a  test  of  civiliza- 
tion in  a  community  as  the  social  relations  of  the 
living.  The  taste  which  embellishes  life  passes  with 
the  arts  attendant  upon  it,  from  one  nation  to  an- 
other, like  a  merchantable  commodity ;  but  the 
sentiment  that  would  veil  the  dreariness  of  the 
grave,  and  throw  a  charm  even  around  the  se- 
pulchre, that  would  hide  the  forbidding  features  of 


VOL.  I. — B 


14  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

that  formal  mound,  and  shelter  the  ashes  beneath 
it  from  contumely — this  is  a  characteristic  spring- 
ing from  some  peculiar  tone  of  national  feeling,  and 
radically  distinctive  of  the  community  that  pos- 
sesses it.  The  philosopher,  it  is  true,  may  sneer  at 
our  care  of  this  bodily  machine  when  the  principle 
that  gave  it  motion  has  ceased  to  actuate  it ;  but 
how  stolid  is  he  who  can  look  upon  the  ruin  of  a 
noble  edifice,  even  though  made  irretiievably  deso- 
late, with  apathy  :  or  who  would  not  fence  up 
from  intrusive  dilapidation  halls  hallowed,  whether 
by  the  recollection  of  our  own  personal  enjoyments 
or  the  memory  of  the  great  and  good  of  other  times. 
It  is  one  and  the  same  feeling  which  arrests  our 
steps  beneath  a  mouldering  fortress,  and  which 
induces  a  pilgrimage  to  the  tomb  of  a  departed 
poet:  which  kindles  our  indignation  against  the 
plunderer  of  the  Parthenon,  that  "titled  pilferer 
of  what  Time  and  Turks  had  spared  ;"  and  which 
makes  it  ready  to  consume  the  wretches  who  tore 
the  bones  of  Milton  from  his  sepulchre. 

The  calm  sequestered  privacy  of  the  Bethlehem 
burial-ground  would  have  satisfied  even  the  partic- 
ularity of  Sir  Lucius  O'Trigger,  whose  encourag- 
ing suggestion  to  his  non-combative  friend  Acres, 
"that  there  was  good  lying  in  the  Abbey,"  shows  that 
he  had  an  eye  to  his  comfort  in  these  matters.     It 


A     WINTER     IN     THE    WEST.  15 

stands  aloof  from  the  bustling  part  of  the  village, 
near  a  noble  church,  which  still  faces  on  one  of  the 
principal  streets.  The  approach  from  the  church, 
which  has  grounds  of  its  own,  in  the  form  of  an 
ornamented  terrace  around  it,  is  through  a  narrow 
green  lane.  At  the  entrance  of  this,  shaded  by  a 
clump  of  willows,  stands  a  small  stone  building 
called,  I  believe,  from  the  purposes  to  which  it  is 
applied,  "  The  Dead  House."  Here  the  bodies  of 
the  dead  are  deposited  for  many  hours  previous  to 
interment.  The  head  is  left  uncovered,  and  life,  if 
by  any  possibility  it  be  yet  remaining,  has  a  chance 
of  renewing  its  energies  before  the  jaws  of  the  tomb 
close  for  ever  over  its  victim.  I  looked  through 
the  grated  windows,  but  saw  nothing  except  an 
empty  bier  in  the  centre,  and  several  shells  adapted 
to  coffins  of  different  sizes  leaning  against  the  wall. 
With  the  usual  perversity  of  human  nature,  I  half 
regretted  that  the  solemn  chamber  was  at  the  mo- 
ment untenanted,  and  passed  on  to  the  place  of 
which  it  is  the  threshold. 

There  my  eye  was  met  by  the  same  neat  ap- 
pearances and  severe  taste  which  seem  to  prevail 
throughout  the  economy  of  the  Moravians.  The 
graves,  arranged  in  rows,  with  an  avenue  through 
the  centre  dividing  the  males  from  the  females,  are 
in  the  form  of  an  oblong  square,  flattened  on  the 


16  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

top,  with  a  small  slab  reposing  in  the  centre.  On 
this  are  cut  simply  the  name  of  the  deceased,  and 
the  dates  of  his  birth  and  death — a  meager  memo- 
rial— but  enough  :  and  I  could  not  help — after 
deciphering  a  number  of  these  moss-covered^stones, 
upon  which  the  dews  of  more  than  a  century  had 
wept — turning  with  distaste  from  a  few  flaring 
marble  slabs  at  the  farther  end  of  the  yard,  upon 
which  the  virtues  of  those  beneath  were  emblazoned 
in  the  most  approved  modern  forms. 

I  left  the  spot,  thinking  it  a  pity  that  a  greater 
number  of  trees  did  not,  by  shading  the  grounds, 
complete  their  beauty,  and  felt  willing  that  the 
young  locusts  which  skirt  them  round  should  have 
time  to  fling  their  branches  farther  towards  the 
centre,  before  I  should  have  occasion  to  claim  the 
hospitality  of  the  place. 

Need  I  say  how  truly,  until  then,  I  am 

Yours. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE      WEST.  l*f 


LETTER   III. 

Harrisburgh,  Pa.,  Oct.  22. 

I  write   to  you  from  the  banks  of  the  Susque- 
hannah.     A  dull  steady  rain  prevails  out  of  doors, 
and  after  wading  through  the  mud  about  the  pur- 
lieus of  this  place  for  an  hour,  I  am  glad  to  be 
housed  at  last  for  the  rest  of  the  day.     I  see  the 
capital  of  Pennsylvania  under  every  disadvantage, 
but  still  am  pleased  with  it.     Although  a  city  in 
miniature  (and  this  contains  only  four  or  five  thou- 
sand inhabitants)  is  generally  odious  to  one  who 
has  resided  in  a  metropolis — reminding  him  per- 
haps of  Goose  Gibbie  in  jack-boots,  at  the  Review 
of  Tillietudlem — there  is  much  in  the  appearance 
of  Harrisburgh  to  reconcile  the  most  captious  to 
its  assumption  of  civic  honours.     The  manner  in 
which  the  place  is  laid  out  and  built,  the  substan- 
tial improvements  going  forward,  and  the  degree 
of  wealth  and  enterprise  manifested  in  those  already 
made,  and  above  all,  its  beautiful  site,  make  it  an 
exception  to  the  generally  uninteresting  character 

of  country  towns. 

b2 


18  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

The  chief  part  of  the  town  lies  on  a  piece  of 
champaign  land,  about  40  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  Susquehannah  ;  the  handsomest  street  in  the 
place,  though  occupied  chiefly  by  petty  tradesmen 
and  mechanics,  verging  on  the  waters  of  that  lovely 
stream.     The  other  streets  run  at  right-angles  to, 
and  parallel  with,  the  river,  which  is  nearly  straight, 
except  where  it  washes  the  town  with  a  graceful 
bend  near  the  suburbs  of  either  end.  Facingthe  Sus- 
quehannah at  the  upper  part  of  the  town,  and  only  a 
few  hundred  yards  from  the  river,  is  a  sudden  ele- 
vation rising  into  a  level  platform,  about  60  feet 
above  the  surrounding  plain.     Upon  this  eminence, 
fronting  the  river  through  a  broad  street,  stands 
the  capitol  and  state  buildings,  containing  the  chief 
public  offices.     The  centre  edifice,  and  one  stand- 
inc  detached  on  either  side,  are  all  ornamented 
with  Grecian  porticoes,  and  their  size,  their  simple 
design,  and  just  architectural  proportions,  would 
make  an  imposing  display,  and  impress  a  stranger 
favourably  until  he  ascertained  the  paltry  material 
of  which  they  are  built.     But  I  defy  any  one,  un- 
less he  may  have  written  sonnets  to  Time  in  the 
ruins  of  Babel,  to  have  one  respectful  association 
with  a  structure  of  brick.     Putting  the  perishable 
nature  of  the  material  entirely  out  of  the  question, 
although  a  sufficient  objection  to  its  use  in  a  public 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  19 

building,  its  size  alone  is  fatal  to  effect  in  a  structure 
of  any  pretension.  For  it  is  massiveness  in  the 
details  as  well  as  in  combination,  which  delights 
the  beholder  in  architectural  forms  :  and  the  pyra- 
mids of  Egypt  themselves,  if  reared  of  boyish 
marbles,  though  they  might  be  so  ingeniously  put 
together  as  to  awaken  curiosity,  could  never  inspire 
awe.  The  disciple  of  Malthus  perhaps  might  busy 
himself  in  calculating  how  many  urchins  it  took — 
supposing  every  one  in  the  dominions  of  Cheops  to 
have  contributed  his  mite  to  complete  the  fabric — 
but  where  would  have  been  all  those  ingenious 
surmises  with  which  antiquarians,  since  the  days 
of  old  Herodotus,  and  who  knows  how  many  cen- 
turies before,  have  puzzled  the  brains  of  their 
readers  ?  Where  would  be  that  reverence  with 
which  mankind  in  every  known  age  have  regarded 
these  monuments  of  the  power  of  their  race  in  the 
early  vigour  of  its  creation  ?  Where  would  be  the 
awe  with  which  we  now  regard  these  artificial 
mountains  that  rear  their  stupendous  forms  in  pro- 
portions that  mock  at  modern  art ;  and,  rivalling 
in  their  heaped-up  rocky  masses  the  masonry  of 
Nature  herself,  speak  of  the  labours  of  a  race  for 
whom  the  Mastodon  of  our  own  continent  would 
have  been  a  fitting  beast  of  burden  ? 

What  a  singular  perversion  of  taste  is  that  exist- 


20  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

ing  in  the  towns  and  villages  through  which  I  am 
passing,  which  induces  the  inhabitants  to  make  their 
barns  and  cow-sheds  of  solid  stone,  and  their  orna- 
mental buildings  of  brick  and  stucco.    I  sometimes 
see  Gothic  churches  of  the  first,  and  Grecian  fronts 
of  the  last;  and  these  not  unfrequently  planted  in 
the   midst  of  a  cluster  of  gray  mansions,  whose 
towering  gables,  huge  stone-buttresses,  and  deep- 
cut  narrow  windows  make  the  former  show  like 
some  pert  poplar  thrusting  his  dandy  figure  among 
a  clump  of  hoary  oaks.     Still  one  cannot  but  ad- 
mire the  air  of  comfort — I  might  almost  say  of 
opulence — which  prevails  throughout  the  country 
I  am  traversing.     This,  in  the  village  of  Reading, 
through  which  we  passed  yesterday,  is  particularly 
the  case.    It  has  a  population  of  about  7,000  inhabi- 
tants ;  and  the  numerous  coaches  rilled  with  passen- 
gers which  pass  daily  through  it,  the  wagons  loaded 
with  produce  that  throng  the  streets  of  the  place, 
and  the  rich  display  of  goods  and  fancy  articles  in 
the  shops,  give  Reading  a  most  nourishing  appear- 
ance.   It  is  prettily  situated  on  the  Schuylkill,  with 
a  range  of  high  rocky  hills  in  the  rear ;  but  its 
position  wants  the  picturesque  beauty  of  Harris- 
burgh.     Here  the  Susquehannah  is,  I  should  think, 
full  half  a  mile  wide.     It  is  studded  with  wooded 
islets,  and  flows  between  banks  which,  though  not 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  21 

very  bold  in  themselves,  yet  rise  with  sufficient 
dignity  from  the  margin,  and  blend  with  the  undu- 
lating country,  until  the  arable  slopes  and  sunny 
orchards  are  bounded  by  a  distant  range  of  moun- 
tains. 

The  prospect  from  the  capitol  is,  I  am  told,  un- 
commonly fine  ;  but  the  thick  mist  which  limited 
my  view  to  a  very  narrow  compass  while  walking 
along  the  banks  of  the  river  an  hour  ago,  has 
hitherto  prevented  me  from  trying  the  view.  I 
shall  visit  the  spot  from  which  it  is  to  be  had  in  the 
morning. 

Yecterday  I  had,  for  the  first  time,  the  gratifica- 
tion of  hearing  a  sermon  pronounced  in  German — 
the  common  language  of  this  part  of  the  country. 
I  walked  some  distance  through  a  pelting  shower 
to  the  church  in  Womelsdorf;  and  though  the 
preacher  was  prevented  by  sudden  indisposition 
from  giving  more  than  the  exordium  of  his  dis- 
course, I  was  sufficiently  delighted  with  his  clear, 
mellow  enunciation,  and  the  noble  sound  and  volume 
of  the  language  which  he  spoke  in  all  its  purity,  to 
regret  most  deeply  an  often-deferred  resolution  of 
mastering  that  manly  tongue.  One  must  think 
more  strongly  in  such  a  muscular  language.  I 
have  frequently  had  occasion  to  admire  the  expres- 
siveness of  the  German  in  poetry,  when  Goethe  or 


22  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

Schiller  were  quoted  by  others,  but  I  had  not  till 
now  a  conception  of  the  effect  in  oratory  of  that 
language  which  gave  energy  to  the  torrent  of 
Luther's  denunciations,  and  richness  to  the  flow  of 
Melancthon's  eloquence.  I  listened,  it  is  true,  not 
understanding^,  but  like  one  who  admires  the 
compass  of  an  instrument,  though  ignorant  of  the 
air  that  is  produced  from  it.  I  conceived,  how- 
ever, that  I  could  follow  the  preacher  in  his  pre- 
liminary address;  and,  indeed,  the  tone  of  fervid 
feeling  and  unaffected  solemnity  in  which  it  was 
made  would  have  impressed,  if  it  did  not  bear 
along,  the  most  ignorant  listener.  The  congrega- 
tion, owing  to  the  weather,  was  but  small.  The 
two  sexes  sat  apart  from  each  other,  and  had  a 
separate  entrance  to  the  building  We  were  not 
aware  of  this  at  our  entrance  ;  and  as  a  matter  of 
good  taste,  my  friend  and  I  took  our  seat  among 
the  ladies,  when  an  active  master  of  ceremonies, 
probably  the  sexton,  insisted  upon  showing  us  to 
another  place,  and  with  difficulty  induced  us  to 
change  our  situation,  after  we  had  once  or  twice 
declined  with  thanks  what  we  conceived  to  be  an 
officious  act  of  politeness  on  his  part.  The  young 
Vrounties  appeared  to  regard  our  interchange  of 
civilities  with  particular  interest ;  and  I  am  half 
persuaded  that  had  we  not  struck  our  flag  to  the 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  23 

gentleman-usher  just  when  we  did,  the  womankind 
(as  Jonathan  Oldbuck  presumes  to  call  the  suze- 
raines  of  the  lords  of  creation)  would  have  risen 
to  a  man  (Hiberniee)  in  our  favour,  and  insisted 
upon  keeping  us  among  them. 

I  shall  keep  open  this  letter  till  to-morrow  even- 
ing, and  add  every  thing  I  have  to  say  on  this  side 
of  the  Alleghanies — for  the  present,  good-night. 

October  23. — The  rain  still  continued  when  I 
left  Harrisburgh  this  morning,  and  the  view  I  prom- 
ised myself  from  the  capitol  was  not  to  be  had. 
My  disappointment  at  not  having  seen  more  of  the 
Susquehannah  is  not  slight,  and  the  feeling  is 
enhanced  by  a  delicious  glance  I  caught  of  its 
waters  in  the  sunlight,  as  the  clouds  parted  for  a 
moment,  just  as  a  turning  of  the  road  shut  out  the 
view  behind  us.  I  almost  grew  melancholy  while 
recalling  with  a  sort  of  home  feeling  the  delight 
with  which,  years  ago,  I  first  beheld  its  sources,  to 
remember  now  that  it  was  the  last  stream  running 
eastward,  that  I  should  see  for  a  long  time  to  come. 
And  then  those  calm,  gentle  waters,  which  flow  as. 
smoothly  as  the  verse  of  him  who  has  immortalized 
them,  once  seen  are  never  to  be  forgotten  nor 
passed  again  without  interest.  The  Susquehannah 
has  its  birth  in  one  of  the  loveliest  of  lakes,  and 
bears  with  it  the  impress  of  its  parentage  where- 


24  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

ever  it  wanders — the  bright  green  surface  and 
transparent  depths  below,  the  winding  current 
which,  unbroken  by  cascade  or  rapids,  whether  it 
steals  through  the  rich  fields  and  beautiful  glens  of 
Otsego,  or  smiles  on  the  storied  vale  of  Wyoming, 
loiters  alike  beside  its  fertile  banks,  as  if  reluctant 
to  pass  them  on  its  long  journey  to  the  ocean.  For 
grandeur  of  scenery,  indeed,  the  Hudson  far  sur- 
passes it ;  and  where  is  the  stream  that  can  match 
that  lordly  river !  But  there  is  a  gentle  beauty 
about  the  Susquehannah  which  touches  without 
striking,  and  wins  while  vou  are  unawed.  The 
one,  like  a  fair  face  lit  up  with  glorious  intellect, 
commands  and  exacts  your  homage;  with  the 
other,  as  with  features  softened  with  tenderness, 
you  leave  your  heart  as  an  offering. 

We  are  now,  you  will  observe,  on  the  main  road 
from  Philadelphia  to  Pittsburgh,  and  as  our  stopping- 
places,  instead  of  being  in  those  mongrel  establish- 
ments, half  inn,  half  farm-house,  will  probably  be 
at  the  stage-coach  offices  along  the  route,  but  little 
opportunity  will  offer  for  observing  the  manners  of 
the  residents.  Thus  far  I  have  no  reason  to  complain 
of  the  want  of  civility  of  the  people  among  whom 
I  have  passed  the  last  week ;  with  the  exception 
of  the  amusing  little  incident  detailed  in  my  first 
letter,  not  a  circumstance  has  occurred  to  qualify 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  25 

this  remark.  The  general  appearance  of  the  coun- 
try east  of  the  mountains,  you  have  already  gathered 
from  the  two  previous  letters.  Latterly  we  have 
travelled  so  continually  in  the  rain  that  I  have  had 
no  opportunity  of  seeing  it  to  advantage.  But  the 
only  change  I  observe  in  the  face  of  the  country  is 
that,  instead  of  being  broken  up  into  small  hills, 
where  forest  and  cultivation  are  most  happily 
mingled— as  around  Bethlehem — the  vales  here 
spread  out  into  plains,  and  the  high  grounds  reced- 
ing, swell  off  till  they  show  like  mountains  in  the 
distance.  I  miss,  too,  those  fine  barns  upon  which 
I  have  dwelt  wTith  so  much  pleasure;  nor  do  the 
better  fencing  and  spruce-looking  dwelling-houses 
compensate  for  the  loss  of  the  imposing  appearance 
of  such  huge  granaries  in  an  agricultural  country. 
I  thought,  when  first  observing  the  change,  and 
marking  the  herds  of  cattle  and  droves  of  sheep 
that  sometimes  throng  the  roads,  that  we  had  got 
at  last  completely  into  a  grazing  region.  But  the 
delicious  wheat-bread  met  with  at  the  humblest 
inns,  with  the  little  stock  to  be  seen  in  the  fields 
seems  to  indicate  that  such  is  not  the  case.  It 
seems  odd  in  a  country  so  thickly  settled,  where 
one  meets  a  hamlet  at  every  two  or  three  miles, 
with  scattering  houses  at  frequent  intervals  be- 
tween them,  that  wild  animals  should  be  yet  abun- 

VOL.  I. C 


26  A    WINTER     IN    THE     WEST 

dant.  But  I  was  told  at  Bethlehem  that  it  was  not 
uncommon  to  kill  bears  upon  the  neighbouring 
hills ;  and  a  gentleman  informed  me  this  morning 
that  they  frequently  drove  deer  into  the  Susque- 
hannah,  within  a  few  miles  of  Harrisburgh.  I  can 
account  for  it  only  by  the  fine  forests  which  are 
everywhere  left  standing  isolated  in  the  midst  of 
cultivated  tracts,  making  so  many  links  in  the  chain 
of  woodland  from  mountain  to  mountain  across  the 
country,  and  tempting  the  wild  animals,  while  it 
extends  their  range,  to  venture  near  to  the  settle- 
ments. 

You  may  be  aware  that,  in  New- York,  owing  to 
the  wholesale  manner  in  which  clearings  are  made, 
the  deer  are  swept  off  with  the  forests  that  shel- 
tered them,  and  retreating  into  the  mountain  fast- 
nesses of  the  northern  counties,  or  the  rude  wilds 
of  the  southern  tier,  are  there  crowded  so  thickly 
as  to  be  butchered  for  their  skins.  In  the  former 
region,  while  fishing,  within  a  few  weeks  since, 
among  the  picturesque  lakes  which  stud  the  sur- 
face of  the  country,  I  have  seen  the  deer  grazing 
like  tamed  cattle  on  the  banks.  It  was  a  beautiful 
sight  to  behold  a  noble  buck  calmly  raising  his 
head  as  the  skiff  from  which  we  trolled  approached 
the  margin  ;  and  then,  after  standing  a  moment  at 


A    WINTER    IN    THE    WEST.  27 

gaze,  toss  his  antlers  high  in  air,  and  with  a  snort 
of  defiance  bound  into  the  forest. 

Farewell.  You  shall  hear  from  me  again  so  soon 
as  we  pass  the  Alleghanies,  the  first  purple  ridge 
of  which  I  can  already  see  limning  the  sky  in  the 
distance.  In  the  mean  time,  I  will  note  down  any 
thing  of  interest  which  catches  my  eye,  and  endea- 
vour to  give  you  hereafter  some  idea  of  the  lofty 
land-mark  which,  before  you  read  this,  will  be 
placed  between  us. 


28  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 


LETTER  IV. 

Bedford,  Pa.,  Oct.  24th,  1833. 

We  have  commenced  ascending  the  Alleghanies* 
A  cold,  difficult  ride  among  the  hills  has  brought 
us  at  last  to  an  excellent  inn  in  the  little  town  from 
which  I  write.  A  blazing  fire  of  seasoned  oak  in  a 
large  open  stove,  sputters  and  crackles  before  me  ; 
and,  after  having  warmed  my  fingers,  and  spent 
some  twenty  minutes  in  examining  an  extensive 
collection  of  Indian  arms  and  equipments,  arranged 
around  the  room  with  a  degree  of  taste  that  would 
not  have  disgraced  the  study  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
I  sit  down  quietly  to  give  you  my  first  impressions 
of  this  mountain  region. 

We  entered  these  highlands  yesterday  ;  S.,  who 
values  himself  upon  being  a  great  whip,  driving  his 
ponies  up  the  ascent,  and  I,  as  usual,  on  horseback. 
It  was  about  an  hour  before  sunset  that  we  com- 
menced ascending  a  mountain  ridge,  whose  deep 
blue  outline,  visible  for  many  a  long  mile  before  we 
reached  the  base,  might  be  mistaken  in  the  distance 
for  the  loftier  rampart  of  which  it  is  only  the  out- 
post.    The  elevation,  which  showed  afar  off  like  a 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  29 

straight  line  along  the  horizon,  became  broken  in 
appearance  as  the  eye,  at  a  nearer  view,  measured 
its  ragged  eminences  ;  but  it  was  not  till  we  were 
winding  up  a  broad  hollow,  scooped  out  of  the  hill- 
side, and  through  which  the  beams  of  the  declining 
sun  played  upon  the  fields  and  farm-houses  beyond, 
that  the  true  character  of  the  adjacent  region  opened 
upon  us.  The  ridge  we  were  ascending  still  rose 
like  a  huge  wall  before  us,  but  the  peaks,  which  had 
seemed  to  lean  against  the  clear  October  sky,  like 
loftier  summits  of  the  same  elevation,  now  stood 
apart  from  the  frowning  barrier,  towering  up  each 
from  its  own  base — the  bastions  of  the  vast  rampart 
we  were  scaling.  Each  step  of  our  ascent  seemed 
to  bring  out  some  new  beauty,  as,  at  the  suc- 
cessive turns  of  the  road,  the  view  eastward  was 
widened  or  contracted  by  the  wooded  glen  up 
which  it  led.  But  all  of  these  charming  glimpses, 
though  any  of  them  would  have  made  a  fine  cabinet 
picture,  were  forgotten  in  the  varied  prospect  that 
opened  upon  us  at  the  summit  of  the  ridge.  Behind, 
towards  the  east,  evening  seemed  almost  to  have 
closed  in  upon  the  hamlet  from  which  we  had 
commenced  our  ascent,  at  the  base  of  the  mountain ; 
but  beyond  its  deepening  shadow,  the  warm  sunset 
smiled  over  a  thousand  orchards  and  cultivated 

c  2 


30  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

fields,  dotted  with  farm-houses,  and  relieved  by 
patches  of  woodland,  whose  gorgeous  autumnal 
tints  made  them  show  like  the  flower-beds  of  one 
broad  garden.     Southwardly ,  the  sweeping  upland 
which  here  heaved  at  once  from  the  arable  grounds 
beneath  us,  while  it  swelled  higher,  rose  less  sud- 
denly from  the  plain.     At  one  point  the  brown 
fields  seemed  to  be  climbing  its  slopes,  while  here 
and  there  a  smooth  meadow  ran  like  the  frith  of  a 
sea  within  its  yawning  glens  ;  and  now  again  peak 
after  peak  of  this  part  of  the  range  could  be  traced 
for  leagues  away,  till  the  last  blue  summit  melted 
into  the  sky,  and  was  finally  lost  in  the  mellow 
distance.      Such,  while  our  horses'  heads  were 
turned  to  the  north-west,  was  the  rich  and  varied 
view  behind  us — the  prospect  from  the  Catskills  is 
the  only  one  I  can  recollect  that  rivals  it  in  magnifi- 
cence.    But  another  scene,  more  striking,  though 
not  so  imposing,  was  also  at  hand, — a  ridge  like 
that  we  had  just  crossed  rose  before  us ;  but  be- 
neath our  very  feet,  and  apparently  so  near  that  it 
seemed  as  if  one  might  drop  a  stone  into  its  bosom, 
lay  one  of  the  loveliest  little  valleys  that  the  sun 
ever  shone  into.     It  was  not  a  mile  in  width,  beau- 
tifully cultivated,  and  with  one  small  village  re- 
posing in  its  very  centre  ;  the  southern  extremity 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  31 

■ 

seemed  to  wind  among  the  lofty  hills  I  have  already 
attempted  to  describe,  but  its  confines  towards  the 
north  were  at  once  determined  bv  a  cluster  of  high- 

*  CD 

lands,  whose  unequal  summits  waved  boldly  forth 
in  the  purple  light  of  evening.  The  sun,  which 
had  now  withdrawn  his  beams  from  the  scene 
behind  us,  still  lingered  near  this  lovely  spot,  and 
his  last  glances,  before  they  reached  the  hill-side 
we  were  descending,  flashed  upon  the  windows  of 
the  village  church,  and,  creeping  unwillingly  up  its 
spire,  touched  with  glory  the  gilded  vane  ;  then 
from  the  sweeping  cone  of  a  pine  above  us,  smiling 
wistfully  back  on  the  landscape  he  was  leaving, 
yielded  it  at  last  to  coining  night. 

The  descent  of  the  mountain,  from  its  multiplied 
windings,  consumed  more  time  than  1  had  antici- 
pated. The  faint  rays  of  a  young  moon  were  just 
beginning  to  compete  successfully  with  the  fading 
tints  of  day,  before  we  had  neared  the  village  suf- 
ficiently to  hear  the  lowing  of  cattle,  and  the  shrill 
shout  of  the  cow-boy,  driving  his  charge  home- 
ward ;  and  her  maturer  beams  were  softened  by 
the  thin  haze  which  rose  imperceptibly  from  a 
brook  winding  through  the  valley,  before  we  reached 
our  destination  for  the  night.  The  occasional  jin- 
gling of  a  wagoner's  bells  in  the  distance,  and  the 
merriment  of  a  group  of  children  playing  by  the 


32  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

moonlight  in  a  grassy  field  near  the  stream,  were 
the  only  sounds  that  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
scene  as  we  drove  up  to  the  door.  I  thought  of 
the  happy  valley  of  Rasselas,  and  wondered  whe- 
ther the  inhabitants  of  this  secluded  spot  could 
really  ever  wish  to  wander  beyond  its  beautiful 
precincts. 

The  gradual,  successive,  and  delicious  blending 
of  lights,  as  I  have  attempted  to  describe  them, 
under  which  I  first  beheld  the  little  valley  of 
M'Connelsville,  will,  doubtless,  account  for  much 
of  my  admiration  of  it ;  and  indeed  some  of  its 
features  were  changed,  and  not  for  the  better, 
when  viewed  under  a  different  aspect  the  next 
morning.  A  sharp  north-easter,  in  spite  of  the 
barriers  which  had  seemed  to  shelter  it,  drove 
down  the  valley  ;  a  cold  drizzling  rain,  with  its 
attendant  mist,  shut  from  view  the  mountain  tops 
around  ;  and  the  village  dwellings,  lining  one  long 
narrow  street,  and  now  no  longer  gilded  with 
the  hues  of  sunset,  nor  standing  clearly  out  in  the 
silver  light  of  the  moon,  showed  like  the  miserable 
hovels  they  were  ;  the  snug  stone-house  where  I 
had  passed  the  night  seemed  to  be  almost  the  only 
tolerable  building  in  the  village,  and  I  was  not 
sorry  to  pass  its  last  straggling  enclosure,  and 
commence  ascending  the  arduous  height  beyond. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  33 

The  summit  of  this  attained,  another  valley,  about 
double  the  width  of  that  just  passed,  lay  before  us  ; 
and  as  the  rain  subsided  at  noon,  leaving  a  gloomy 
lowering  day,  we  could  discover  through  the  cold 
gray  atmosphere  ridge  succeeding  to  ridge,  leaning 
like  successive  layers  against  the  western  sky. 

A  half  day's  rough  ride  among  these  wild 
ravines  brought  us  at  last  to  the  banks  of  the 
Juniata,  along  which  an  excellent  road  is  cut  for 
some  distance.  The  stream,  though  in  the  midst 
of  scenery  of  the  boldest  description,  keeps  its  way 
so  calmly  between  its  rocky  banks,  that  the  dead 
leaf  upon  its  bosom  floats  many  a  mile  before  a 
ripple  curls  over  its  crisped  sides,  and  sinks  the 
little  shallop  to  the  bottom.  We  dined  near  night- 
fall at  a  small  hamlet,  known,  from  a  brook  that 
runs  through  it,  as  "  The  Bloody  Run."  The 
stream  which  bears  this  startling  name  is  a  rill  so 
small  that  its  existence  is  barely  perceptible,  as  it 
creeps  through  the  pebbles  across  the  road,  and 
hastens  to  hide  its  slender  current  in  the  long  grass 
of  an  orchard  beyond;  but  its  waters  will  be  pointed 
out  by  the  villager  with  interest,  so  long  as  they 
dampen  the  channel  where  they  once  flowed  in  all 
the  pride  and  fulness  of  a  mountain  torrent. 

It  was  several  years  before  the  Revolution,  ac- 
cording to  the  statement  given  to  me  by  one  of 


34  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

those  distinguished  persons  who  in  country  towns 
always  figure  after  a  great  storm  or  freshet,  as  the 
"  oldest  inhabitant  of  the  place,"  that  a  large  party 
of  colonists,  on  their  march  towards  Fort  Du 
Quesne,  were  here  cut  off  by  the  Indians.  The 
ambushed  foe  had  allowed  the  main  body  to  pass 
the  brook  and  surmount  the  heights  beyond ;  and 
the  rear-guard,  with  the  cattle  they  had  in  leading 
for  the  use  of  the  troops,  were  drinking  from  the 
stream,  when  the  onslaught  was  made.  The 
Indians  rushed  from  their  covert,  and  burst  upon 
their  victims  so  suddenly  that  fifty  whites  were 
massacred  almost  before  resistance  was  attempted. 
Those  who  were  standing  were  dropped  like  deer 
at  gaze  by  the  forest  marksmen;  and  those  who 
were  stooping  over  the  stream,  before  they  even 
heard  the  charging  yell  of  their  assailants,  received 
the  blow  from  the  tomahawk  which  mingled  their 
life's  blood  with  the  current  from  which  they  were 
drinking. 

The  retribution  of  the  whites  is  said  to  have  been 
furious  and  terrible.  The  body  of  men  in  advance 
returned  upon  their  tracks,  encamped  upon  the 
spot,  and  after  duly  fortifying  themselves,  divided 
into  parties,  and  scoured  the  forest  for  leagues. 
My  informant,  who  gave  me  only  the  traditionary 
account  of  the  village,  could  not  tell  how  long  this 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  35 

wild  chase  lasted  ;  but  that  it  must  have  been  fear- 
fully successful  is  proved,  not  only  by  the  oral 
record  of  the  place,  but  by  the  loose  bones  and 
Indian  weapons  which  are  at  this  day  continually 
found  amid  piles  of  stone  in  the  adjacent  woods  ; 
the  Indians  probably  returning  to  the  valley  after 
the  storm  had  passed  over,  and  heaping  their 
customary  cairn  over  the  bodies  of  their  dead 
kindred. 

What  a  contrast  was  the  peaceful  scene  I  now 
beheld  to  that  which  the  place  witnessed  some 
seventy  years  ago  !  A  train  of  huge  Pennsylvania 
wagons  were  standing  variously  drawn  up,  upon 
the  very  spot  where  the  conflict  was  deadliest ;  the 
smoking  teams  of  some  were  just  being  unharnessed, 
a  few  jaded  beasts  stood  lazily  drinking  from  the 
shallow  stream  that  gurgled  around  their  fetlocks, 
while  others,  more  animated  at  the  near  prospect 
of  food  and  rest,  jingled  the  bells  appended  to  the 
collars  in  unison  with  their  iron  traces,  which 
clanked  over  the  stones  as  they  stalked  off  to  the 
stable.  To  these  signs  of  quiet  and  security  were 
added  those  true  village  appearances  which  struck 
me  so  pleasingly  on  my  approach  to  M'Connels- 
ville.  A  buxom  country-girl  or  two  could  be  seen 
moving  through  the  enclosures,  bearing  the  milk- 
pail  to   meet   the   cows  which  were   coming  in 


36  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

lowing  along  the  highway,  while  the  shouts  and 
laughter  of  a  troop  of  boys  just  let  loose  from 
school  came  merrily  on  the  ear  as  they  frolicked 
on  a  little  green  hard  by.  My  companion  stood 
in  the  midst  of  them,  holding  a  piece  of  silver  in  his 
fingers,  while  a  dozen  little  chaps  around  him  were 
trying  who  could  win  the  bright  guerdon  by  stand- 
ing on  one  leg  the  longest.  The  ridiculous  postures 
of  the  little  crew,  with  the  not  less  ludicrous 
gravity  of  my  friend,  who  was  thus  diverting  him- 
self, of  course,  put  an  end  to  my  sober  musings ; 
but  I  could  not  help,  while  advancing  to  the  scene 
of  the  sport,  fancying  for  a  moment  the  effect  of 
the  war-whoop  breaking  suddenly,  as  ere  now  it 
often  has,  upon  a  scene  apparently  so  safe,  shel- 
tered, and  happy. — Good-night. 

P.S. — Somerset,  Oct.  2Glh. — You  have  read  in 
the  newspapers  of  the  recent  destruction  of  this 
place  by  fire  ;  it  must  have  been  large  and  flourish- 
ing, judging  by  the  extensive  ruins  which  I  have 
just  been  trying  to  trace  by  the  frosty  light  of  the 
moon  now  shining  over  them.  The  appearances 
of  desolation  here  are  really  melancholy ;  the 
inn  where  we  put  up  is  the  only  one  left  stand- 
ing, out  of  five  or  six,  and  it  is  so  crowded  with  the 


A     WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  37 

houseless  inhabitants  that  I  find  it  difficult  to  get  a 
place  to  write  in. 

We  are  now  in  the  bosom  of  the  Alleghanies : 
the  scenery  passed  to-day  is  beautiful,  most  beauti- 
ful. The  mountains  are  loftier,  as  well  as  more 
imposing  in  form,  than  those  which  skirt  these  wild 
regions  eastwardly ;  whichever  way  the  eye  directs 
itself,  they  are  piled  upon  each  other  in  masses, 
which  blend  at  last  with  the  clouds  above  them. 
At  one  point  they  lie  in  confused  heaps  together ; 
at  another  they  lap  each  other  with. outlines  as  dis- 
tinct as  if  the  crest  of  each  were  of  chiselled  stone  : 
some,  while  the  breeze  quivers  through  their  dense 
forests,  rear  their  round  backs,  like  the  hump  of 
a  camel,  boldly  near ;  and  some,  swelling  more 
gradually  from  the  vales  below,  show  in  the  blue 
distance  like  waves  caught  on  the  curl  by  some 
mighty  hand,  and  arrested  ere  they  broke  on  the 
misty  region  beyond.  Then  for  their  foliage  !  the 
glorious  hues  of  autumn  are  here  displayed  in  all 
their  fulness,  and  brilliancy,  and  power — volume 
upon  volume,  like  the  rolling  masses  of  sunset 
clouds,  the  leafy  summits  fold  against  the  sky — 
calm  at  one  moment  as  the  bow  of  peace, 
whose  tints  they  borrow ;  and  at  another  flam- 
ing like  the  banners  of  a  thousand  battles  in  the 
breeze. 
vol.  i. — D 


38  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

But  why  should  I  attempt  to  describe  what 
baffles  all  description  ?  The  humblest  grove  of  our 
country  is,  at  this  season,  arrayed  in  colours  such 
as  the  Italian  masters  never  dreamed  of;  and 
woods  like  these  assume  a  pomp  which  awes  the 
pencil  into  weakness.  Such  forests,  such  foliage 
were  unknown  when  our  language  was  invented. 
Let  those  who  named  the  noble-sounding  rivers 
that  reflect  their  glories  supply  words  to  describe 
them. 

Farewell.  I  shall  write  to  you  next  from 
Wheeling,  Virginia ;  and  if  you  do  not  think  me 
tedious,  will  touch  again  upon  the  beauties  of  the 
region  through  which  I  am  now  passing. 


A     WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  39 


LETTER  V. 

Wheeling,  Virginia,  October  29th. 

I  used  to  think  our  sea-board  climate  as  ca- 
pricious as  it  could  well  be  ;  but  the  changing  skies 
under  which  we  have  travelled  for  the  last  three 
days  convince  me  that  nowhere  is  the  office  of 
weather-cock  less  of  a  sinecure  than  in  the  region 
through  which  I  have  just  travelled.  Yet  I  do  not 
complain  of  the  weather — far  from  it ;  I  consider 
myself  peculiarly  fortunate  in  having,  during  a 
three  days'  ride  over  the  Alleghanies,  seen  that 
fine  mountain-district  under  every  vicissitude  of 
climate;  and  though  the  cold  has  at  times  been 
severe — the  harsh  rains  any  thing  but  agreeable 
for  the  time — the  Indian  summer  heat  almost 
sultry,  and,  lastly,  the  snow  most  unseasonable,  I 
could  not,  if  I  had  made  my  own  private  arrange- 
ments with  the  clerk  of  the  weather,  have  fixed  it 
upon  the  whole  more  to  my  satisfaction.  The  still 
cold  frosty  mornings  gave  a  vigour  and  boldness  of 
outline  to  the  mountain-scenery,  that  extended  its 
limits  and  heightened  its  effect.  The  rains  which 
an  hour  afterward  washed  the  chan£in£  leaves 
brightened  their  tints  for  the  noonday  sun  which 


40  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

followed ;  and  the  warm  mist  of  evening  imbued 
the  landscape  with  a  Claude-like  mellowness  that 
suited  the  rich  repose  of  evening  among  the  hills. 
As  for  the  snow,  nothing  could  be  more  beautiful 
than  the  effect  of  it  at  this  season  in  the  woods. 
We  had  two  flurries  on  successive  days,  each  of 
which,  after  covering  the  ground  about  an  inch  in 
depth,  was  succeeded  by  a  bright  glowing  sky. 
The    appearance   the   woods    then   presented  it 
would  be  almost  impossible  to  describe  to  you. 
Call  up  in  your  mind  the  brilliant  and  animated 
effect  produced  by  a  January  sun  shining  through 
a  leafless  grove,  over  the  fresh  white  carpet  that 
has  been  wound  among  the  trees  during  the  pre- 
ceding night.     How  do  the  dead  branches  smile 
in  the  frosty  sunbeams  ;  how  joyously  does  every 
thing  sparkle  in  the  refracted  light !    Now  imagine 
the  tinted  leaves  of  autumn  blushing  over  those 
rigid  limbs,  and  reflecting  warmth  upon  the  dazzling 
mantle   beneath   them — green,  gold,  and   purple, 
scarlet,  saffron,  and  vermilion;  the  dolphin  hues 
of  our  dying  woods  glistening  in  the  silver  shower, 
and  relieved  against  a  surface  of  virgin  whiteness. 
Let  the  scene  lie,  if  you  choose,  among  mountains 
clothed  with  forests  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach — 
their  billowy  forms  now  sweeping  off  in  vast  curves 
along  the  sky,  and  now  broken  by  ravines,  through 


A      WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  41 

which  a  dozen  conflicting  lights  climb  their  shaggy- 
sides;  or,  not  less  striking,  let  it  be  a  majestic 
river,  whose  fertile  islands,  rich  alluvial  bottoms, 
and  wooded  bluffs  beyond  are  thus  dressed  at  once 
in  Autumn's  pomp  and  Winter's  robe  of  pride,  and 
you  can  hardly  conceive  a  more  beautiful  combina- 
tion.    Such  was  the  aspect  under  which  I  crossed 
the  last  summit  of  the  Alleghanies  yesterday,  and 
such  under  which  I  viewed  the  Ohio  this  morning. 
The  fine  undulating  country  between  the  moun- 
tains and  this  place,  especially  after  passing  the 
post-town  of  Washington,  on  the  borders  of  Penn- 
sylvania, left  me  nothing  to   regret   in  the  way 
of  scenery  after  crossing  the  last  ridge  this  side  of 
Somerset.     And  yet  nothing  can  be  more  exhila- 
rating than  a  canter  over  those  heights  on  a  bracing 
October  day.     The  sudden  breaks  and  turns  of  the 
mountain  road  open  new  views  upon  you  at  every 
moment,    and    the   clear,    pure   atmosphere   one 
breathes,  with  the  motion  of  a  spirited  horse,  would 
"  create  a  soul  beneath  the  ribs  of  death,"  and  re- 
juvenate Methuselah  himself.     One  must  once  have 
been  a  dyspeptic  to  estimate  to  the  full  that  feeling 
of  exulting  health.     For  my  own  part,  however 
philosophers  may  preach  up  the  sublimity  of  intel- 
lectual pleasures,  or  poets  dilate  upon  the  delights 
of  etherealizing  sentiment,  I  confess  that  I  hold  one 

d2 


42  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

good  burst  of  pure  animal  spirits  far  above  them 
all.  On  horseback,  especially,  when  life  quickens 
in  every  vein,  when  there  is  life  in  the  breeze  that 
plays  upon  your  cheek,  and  life  in  each  bound  of 
the  noble  creature  beneath  you ;  who  that  has  felt 
his  pulses  gladden,  and  youth,  glorious  indomitable 
youth,  swelling  high  above  manhood's  colder  tide 
in  his  bosom — who  would  give  the  rush  of  spirits, 
the  breathing  poetry  of  that  moment,  for  all  the 
lays  that  lyrist  ever  sung — for  all  the  joys  philoso- 
phy e'er  proved?  This,  I  know,  must  appear  a 
shocking  doctrine  to  "  the  march  of  mind"  people  ; 
but  as  they  are  presumed  to  go  on  foot,  they  are 
no  authority  on  the  subject.  Apropos  of  pedes- 
trians, though  your  true  western  man  generally 
journeys  on  horseback,  yet  one  meets  numbers  of 
the  former  on  this  side  of  the  Alleghanies.  They 
generally  have  a  tow-cloth  knapsack,  or  light 
leathern  valise,  hung  across  their  backs,  and  are 
often  very  decently  dressed  in  a  blue  coat,  gray 
trousers,  and  round  hat.  They  travel  about  forty 
miles  a  day. 

The  horsemen  almost  invariably  wear  a  drab 
great-coat,  fur  cap,  and  green  cloth  leggins ;  and 
in  addition  to  a  pair  of  well-filled  saddle-bags, 
very  often  have  strapped  to  their  crupper  a  con- 
venience the  last  you  would  expect  to  find  in 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  43 

the  wardrobe  of  a  backwoodsman,  videlicet,  an 
umbrella.  The  females  of  every  rank,  in  this 
mountainous  country,  ride  in  short  dresses.  They 
are  generally  wholly  unattended,  and  sometimes 
in  large  parties  of  their  own  sex.  The  sad- 
dles and  housings  of  their  horses  are  very  gay ; 
and  I  have  repeatedly  seen  a  party  of  four  or  five 
buxom  damsels,  mounted  on  sorry-looking  beasts, 
whose  rough  hides,  unconscious  of  a  currycomb, 
contrasted  oddly  enough  with  saddles  of  purple 
velvet,  reposing  on  scarlet  saddle-cloths,  worked 
with  orange-coloured  borders.  I  have  examined 
the  manufacture  of  these  gorgeous  trappings  at  the 
saddleries  in  some  of  the  towns  in  passing.  They 
much  resemble  those  which  are  prepared  in  New- 
York  for  the  South  American  market,  and  are  of  a 
much  cheaper  make,  and  far  less  durable,  than  those 
which  a  plainer  taste  would  prefer.  Still  the  effect 
of  these  gay  colours,  as  you  catch  a  glimpse  of 
them  afar  off,  fluttering  through  the  woods,  is  by 
no  means  bad.  They  would  show  well  in  a  pic- 
ture, and  be  readily  seized  by  a  painter  in  relieving 
the  shadows  of  a  sombre  landscape. 

But  by  far  the  greatest  portion  of  travellers  one 
meets  with,  not  to  mention  the  ordinary  stage- 
coach passengers,  consists  of  teamsters  and  the  emi- 
grants.   The  former  generally  drive  six  horses  be- 


44  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

fore  their  enormous  wagons — stout,  heavy-looking 
beasts,  descended,  it  is  said,  from  the  famous 
draught  horses  of  Normandy.  They  go  about 
twenty  miles  a  day.  The  leading  horses  are  often 
ornamented  with  a  number  of  bells  suspended  from 
a  square  raised  frame -work  over  their  collars, 
originally  adopted  to  warn  these  lumbering  ma- 
chines of  each  other's  approach,  and  prevent  their 
being  brought  up  all  standing  in  the  narrow  parts 
of  the  road. 

As  for  the  emigrants,  it  would  astonish  you  to 
witness  how  they  get  along.  A  covered  one-horse 
wagon  generally  contains  the  whole  worldly  sub- 
stance of  a  family  consisting  not  unfrequently  of  a 
dozen  members.  The  tolls  are  so  high  along  this 
western  turnpike,  and  horses  are  comparatively  so 
cheap  in  the  region  whither  the  emigrant  is  bound, 
that  he  rarely  provides  more  than  one  miserable 
Rosinante  to  transport  his  whole  family  to  the  far 
west.  The  strength  of  the  poor  animal  is  of 
course  half  the  time  unequal  to  the  demand  upon 
it,  and  you  will,  therefore,  unless  it  be  raining  very 
hard,  rarely  see  any  one  in  the  wagon,  except 
perhaps  some  child  overtaken  by  sickness,  or  a 
mother  nursing  a  young  infant.  The  head  of  the 
family  walks  by  the  horse,  cheering  and  encourag- 
ing him  on  his  way.     The  good  woman,  when  not 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  45 

engaged  as  hinted  above,  either  trudges  along  with 
her  husband,  or,  leading  some  weary  little  traveller 
by  the  hand  far  behind,  endeavours  to  keep  the 
rest  of  her  charge  from  loitering  by  the  wayside. 
The  old  house-dog — if  not  chained  beneath  the 
wagon  to  prevent  the  half-starved  brute  from 
foraging  too  freely  in  a  friendly  country — brings 
up  the  rear.  I  made  acquaintance  with  more  than 
one  of  these  faithful  followers  in  passing,  by  throw- 
ing him  a  biscuit  as  I  rode  by,  and  my  canine 
friend,  when  we  met  at  an  inn  occasionally 
afterward,  was  sure  to  cultivate  the  intimacy. 
Sometimes  these  invaluable  companions  give  out 
on  the  road,  and  in  their  broken-down  condition 
are  sold  for  a  trifle  by  their  masters.  I  saw  sev- 
eral fine  setters  which  I  had  reason  to  suspect 
came  into  the  country  in  this  way  ;  and  the  owner 
of  a  superb  brindled  greyhound  which  I  met 
among  the  mountains,  told  me  that  he  had  bought 
him  from  an  English  emigrant  for  a  dollar.  He 
used  the  animal  with  great  success  upon  deer,  and 
had  already  been  offered  fifty  dollars  for  him. 

The  hardships  of  such  a  tour  must  form  no  bad 
preparatory  school  for  the  arduous  life  which  the 
new  settler  has  afterward  to  enter  upon.  Their 
horses,  of  course,  frequently  give  out  on  the  road  ; 
and  in  companies  so  numerous,  sickness  must  fre- 


46  A.     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

quently  overtake  some  of  the  members.  Nor 
should  I  wonder  at  serious  accidents  often  occur- 
ring with  those  crank  conveyances  among  the 
precipices  and  ravines  of  the  mountains.  At  one 
place  I  saw  a  horse,  but  recently  dead,  lying  be- 
neath a  steep,  along  the  top  of  which  the  road  led  ; 
and  a  little  farther  in  advance,  I  picked  up  a  pocket- 
book  with  some  loose  leaves  floating  near  the  edge 
of  the  precipice.  It  recalled  the  story  of  Car- 
denio  in  Don  Quixote,  with  the  dead  mule  and  the 
rifled  portmanteau  lying  a  few  yards  apart,  among 
the  rocks  of  the  Sierra  Morena  ;  and  we  almost 
expected  to  see  the  grotesque  figure  which  so  ex- 
cited the  noble  emulation  of  the  worthy  knight, 
leaping  from  rock  to  rock  in  the  same  guise  that 
the  admirable  pencil  of  Cervantes  has  assigned  to 
him.  The  apparition  did  not  show  itself,  however  ; 
and  we  left  the  pocket-book  at  the  nearest  inn,  to 
be  disposed  of  according  to  the  claimants  that 
might  appear.  These  mountains,  though  occa- 
sionally thus  cut  up  by  precipitous  glens,  are  still 
by  no  means  rocky — as  would  appear  from  the 
fact  of  the  inhabitants  hunting  deer  on  horseback, 
through  woods  which  would  be  almost  impervious 
to  a  pair  of  city-bred  legs.  The  modus  operandi 
is  very  simple.  The  hunters  collect  in  a  troop — 
drive  the  deer  in  a  circle — and  then  shoot  from  the 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  47 

saddle.     You  may   remember  something  of  the 
same  kind  described  in  Waverley.     The  soil  must 
in  general  be  indifferent,  according  to  what  was 
told  us   by  the   keeper   of  a  turnpike-gate,  who 
claimed  to  be  the  father  of  twenty-seven  children ! 
I  asked  this  worthy  paterfamilias  if  the  country 
was  healthy.     "Healthy,  sir!"  he  replied,  "that 
it  is — healthy  and  poor — ten   people   run  away 
where  one  dies  in  it."     The  soil  improves  much 
after   leaving   the   mountains ;    and   we    crossed 
some  rich  bottom  lands  when  fording  the  Youghi- 
oghany  and  Monongahela  Rivers, — the  former  a 
branch  of  the  latter,  and  both  fine  pebbly  streams, 
navigable  at  certain  seasons  of  the  year. 

About  thirty  miles  from  Wheeling  we  first  struck 
the  national  road.  It  appears  to  have  been  origi- 
nally constructed  of  large  round  stones,  thrown 
without  much  arrangement  on  the  surface  of  the 
soil,  after  the  road  was  first  levelled.  These  are 
now  being  ploughed  up,  and  a  thin  layer  of  broken 
stones  is  in  many  places  spread  over  the  renovated 
surface.  I  hope  the  roadmakers  have  not  the  con- 
science to  call  this  Macadamizing.  It  yields  like 
snow-drift  to  the  heavy  wheels  which  traverse  it, 
and  the  very  best  parts  of  the  road  that  I  saw  are 
not  to  be  compared  with  a  Long  Island  turnpike. 
Two- thirds  indeed   of  the  extent   we   traversed 


48  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

were  worse  than  any  artificial  road  I  ever  travelled, 
except  perhaps  the  log  causeways  among  the  new 
settlements  in  northern  New-York.  The  ruts  are 
worn  so  broad  and  deep  by  heavy  travel,  that  an 
army  of  pigmies  might  march  into  the  bosom  of  the 
country  under  the  cover  they  would  afford ;  and 
old  Ixion  himself  could  hardly  trundle  his  wheel 
over  such  awful  furrows.  Perhaps  I  was  the  more 
struck  with  the  appearance  of  this  celebrated  high- 
way from  the  fact  of  much  of  the  road  over  the 
mountains  having  been  in  excellent  condition. — 
There  is  one  feature,  however,  in  this  national  work 
which  is  truly  fine, — I  allude  to  the  massive  stone 
bridges  which  form  a  part  of  it.  They  occur,  as 
the  road  crosses  a  winding  creek,  a  dozen  times 
within  twice  as  many  miles.  They  consist  either 
of  one,  two,  or  three  arches  ;  the  centre  arch  being 
sprung  a  foot  or  two  higher  than  those  on  either 
side.  Their  thick  walls  projecting  above  the  road, 
their  round  stone  buttresses,  and  carved  key-stones 
combine  to  give  them  an  air  of  Roman  solidity  and 
strength.  They  are  monuments  of  taste  and  power 
that  will  speak  well  for  the  country  when  the  brick 
towns  they  bind  together  shall  have  crumbled  in 
the  dust. 

These  frequently  recurring  bridges  are  striking 
objects  in  the  landscape,  where  the  road  winds  for 


A     WINTER     IN     THE      WEST.  49 

many  miles  through  a  narrow  valley.  They  may 
be  seen  at  almost  every  turn  spanning  the  deep 
bosom  of  the  defile,  and  reflected  with  all  their 
sombre  beauty  in  the  stream  below. 

The  valley  widens  within  a  few  miles  of  Wheel- 
ing, and  the  road  strikes  into  the  hill-side,  whose 
crooked  base  it  has  long  been  following.  It  soon 
begins  to  be  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock,  and  the 
ascent  is  rapidly  accelerated.  Above,  on  the  right, 
the  trees  impend  from  a  lofty  hill  over  your  path, 
and  far  below  you  see  the  stream,  so  long  your 
companion,  gleaming  through  a  small  cultivated 
bottom,  which  shows  like  a  garden  to  the  eye;  It 
is  girdled  by  steep  hills,  and  seems,  with  its  single 
mill  and  one  or  two  farm-houses,  to  be  shut  out 
from  all  the  w  <  rid.  Advance  but  a  pistol-shot, 
and  you  look  into  the  chimneys  of  Wheeling. 
The  Ohio  is  beneath  your  feet.  The  town  lies  in 
so  narrow  a  strip  along  the  river,  that,  from  the 
ridge  on  which  you  stand,  you  will  hardly  notice 
its  crowded  buildings  ; — that  first  view  of  the 
lovely  river  of  the  west  is  worth  a  journey  of  a 
thousand  miles.  The  clear  majestic  tide,  the  fertile 
islands  on  its  bosom,  the  bold  and  towering  heights 
opposite,  with  the  green  esplanade  of  alluvion  in 
front,  and  the  forest-crowned  headlands  above  and 
below,  round  which  the  river  sweeps  away,  to 

VOL.  I. E 


50  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

bless  and  gladden  the  fruitful  regions  that  drink  its 
limpid  waters, — these,  with  the  recollections  of 
deeds  done  upon  its  banks — the  wild  incidents  and 
savage  encounters  of  border  story,  so  immediately 
contrasted  with  all  the  luxuries  of  civilization  that 
now  float  securely  upon  that  peaceful  current, — 
these  make  up  a  moral  picture  whose  colours  are 
laid  in  the  heart,  never  to  be  effaced  : — no  man  will 
ever  forget  his  first  view  of  the  Ohio. 

I  descended  with  regret  from  the  elevation  which 
afforded  this  noble  prospect,  and  plunging  into  the 
smoky  town  below,  am  now  comfortably  quartered 
in  the  best  tavern  in  the  place.  I  shall  remain 
here  only  till  a  steamboat  comes  along,  and  will 
write  to  you  next  from  Pittsburg. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  51 


LETTER  VI. 

Pittsburg,  November  3d. 

I  passed  an  evening  most  agreeably  at  Wheeling, 
with  two  or  three  prominent  members  of  the  Bar, 
who  were  distinguished  by  that  courtesy  and 
cordial  frankness  which  mark  the  western  Vir- 
ginian. A  venison  steak  and  flask  of  old  Tus- 
caloosa (the  relish  and  flavour  of  which  would  have 
been  tocsin  to  the  soul  of  Apicius,  and  made 
Anacreon  uneasy  in  his  grave)  gave  cordiality  to 
the  meeting.  It  was  my  first  introduction  into 
western  society,  and  I  could  hardly  have  been 
initiated  undeT  better  auspices,  as  I  went  under 
the  wing  of  an  Ohio  gentleman,  whose  warm 
hospitality  and  endearing  social  qualities,  united 
as  they  are  to  distinguished  professional  talents, 
seem  to  make  him  a  universal  favourite  in  this 
region.  The  conversation,  animated,  various,  and 
instructive,  would  supply  material  for  a  dozen  let- 
ters. But  the  nervous  expressions,  and  almost 
startling  boldness,  of  western  phraseology  would 
lose  half  its  vividness  and  power  when  transferred 
to  paper.     I  found  myself,  however,  catching  oc- 


UBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  Ittfffe 


52  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

casionally  something  of  the  characteristic  tone  of 
those  around  me,  and  my  new  friends  gave  so 
encouraging  a  reception  to  each  fresh  fledged  sally, 
that  I  live  in  the  humble  hope  of  being  able  to  ex- 
press myself  with  sufficient  propriety  by  the  time  I 
reach  the  really  outer  west,  to  prevent  people  from 
detecting  at  once  the  early  disadvantages  I  have 
laboured  under,  in  living  so  long  in  a  land  where 
every  lip  lisps  homage  to  mincing  Walker,  and 
each  tongue  trembles  in  terrorem  of  terrible  John- 
son. In  that  event  I  may  have  both  scenes  and 
characters  to  describe,  when  we  meet,  such  as 
would  now  split  my  pen  in  telling. 

Wheeling  is  one  of  the  most  flourishing  places  on 
the  Ohio.  The  immense  quantity  of  bituminous 
coal  in  the  adjacent  region,  which  may  be  had 
merely  for  the  dgging,  gives  it  great  advantages 
as  a  manufacturing  place,  while  the  rich  back 
country  and  favourable  position  on  the  river,  espe- 
cially in  low  water,  when  steamboats  find  Pitts- 
burgh difficult  of  access,  make  the  town  a  place  of 
active  trade.  It  lies  in  two  parallel  streets,  beneath 
a  hill  extending  along  the  river,  and  its  smoky  pur- 
lieus, when  viewed  from  within,  except  to  the  eye 
of  the  man  of  business,  are  any  thing  but  attractive. 
The  principal  tavern  of  the  place,  wherein  I  lodged, 
is  well  supplied  with  bedchambers,  and  parlours, 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  53 

and  a  comfortable  reading-room,  where  the  leading 
papers  in  the  Union  are  taken.  The  attendance 
too,  all  the  servants  being  blacks,  is  very  good. 
Among  them,  a  perfect  treasure,  in  the  shape  of  a 
genuine  old  Virginian  negro,  must  not  be  forgotten. 
The  features  of  Billy  (for  that  is  the  name  of  my 
sable  friend)  are  an  exact  copy  of  those  generally 
introduced  into  Washington's  picture  when  he  is 
painted  with  his  favourite  groom  in  attendance.  I 
piqued  myself  considerably  upon  having  discovered 
the  likeness,  when  I  afterward  found  that  the  worthy 
Ethiop  had  actually  been  "  raised,"  as  he  expressed 
it,  in  the  Washington  family.  He  is  a  professing 
member  of  the  Baptist  church,  and  I  was  much 
interested,  while  talking  with  the  newly  converted 
heathen  (for  such  he  called  himself  prior  to  the 
"change"),  to  find  how  the  precepts  with  which  he 
had  lately  become  indoctrinated  assorted  with  the 
ideas  he  had  been  brought  up  in  as  a  slave ;  re- 
ligion seemed  only  to  have  strengthened  the  bonds 
which  held  him  to  his  master.  "  This  new  light," 
he  said,  "  showed  the  old  nigger"  (I  give  his  exact 
words)  "  that  to  whatever  station  God  pleased  to 
call  him,  there  it  was  good  for  the  old  nigger  to  be." 
I  was  told  that  he  was  rigidly  attentive  to  his 
spiritual  duties,  and  as  for  his  worldly  ones,  I 
never  met  with  a  more  thorough-bred  and  respect- 

e  2 


54  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

ful  servant.  He  is  amon^  the  last  of  a  race  once 
numerous  in  the  Old  Dominion*  but  now  fading  from 
the  face  of  the  earth.  Sero  in  caslum  redeas,  and 
when  thy  dusky  soul  takes  flight,  thy  name  be  im- 
mortal Billy,  let  thy  statue,  carved  in  ebony,  be  set 
up  in  Hudson's  door-way,  and  a  memoir  of  thy 
life  flare  in  each  intelligence-office  in  the  Union. 

It  was  with  no  slight  regret  that  I  parted  with  my 
friend  S.,  when  stepping  on  board  a  pretty  steam- 
boat, called  the  Gazelle,  to  take  my  passage  up  the 
river;  his  foreign  travel,  and  various  opportunities, 
have  given  him  habits  of  observation  which,  with 
a  dash  of  humour  and  ready  flow  of  fine  spirits, 
constitute  a  capital  travelling  companion.  His 
literary  tastes  are  well  known  to  you  ;  and  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if,  at  a  future  day,  he  should  dis- 
tinguish himself  as  another  member  of  his  family 
has  so  happily  done,  by  committing  to  the  press  a 
few  notes  of  his  wanderings.*  I  left  him  waiting 
for  the  downward  boat,  and  we  parted,  promising 
to  meet  again  in  a  few  months  at  New-Orleans — 
each  of  us  in  the  mean  time  traversing  regions  from 
which  the  kingdoms  and  principalities  of  Europe 
might  be  carved  out  and  never  missed. 

The  snow  of  yesterday  yet  covered  the  ground, 

*  This  expectation  has  not  been  defeated,  as  "  Notes  on 
Spain,  by  a  citizen  of  Louisiana,"  are  among  the  new  publica- 
tions announced  in  England. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  55 

as  we  rubbed  along  the  shores  of  the  Ohio ;  and 
those  pictured  woods,  with  the  morning  sun  gleam- 
ing through  their  tall  stems,  and  glistening  on  the 
powdered  tree-tops,  were  indescribably  beautiful. 
The  islets,  particularly  where  the  hues  of  the  foliage 
were  most  vivid,  shone  like  shields  of  silver  bla- 
zoned with  no  mortal  heraldry.  Before  noon,  how- 
ever, the  sun  absorbed  every  particle  of  earth's 
fragile  covering.  The  warm  mist  of  Indian  sum- 
mer succeeded,  the  river  became  like  glass,  every 
island  floated  double  upon  its  bosom,  and  each 
headland  seemed  to  drop  its  cliffs  against  a  nether 
sky.  The  harsh  panting  of  our  high-pressure 
engine,  or  the  sudden  flapping  of  a  duck's  wing,  as 
he  rose  abruptly  from  under  the  bow  of  the  boat, 
were  the  only  sounds  abroad.  The  day  so  still, 
so  soft,  and  summery,  seemed  like  the  sabbath  of 
the  dying  year. 

The  evening  came  on  calm  and  mellow,  and  the 
broad  disc  of  the  moon  slept  as  quietly  on  the  fair 
bosom  of  the  Ohio,  as  if  her  slumbers  there  had 
never  been  broken  by  the  war-whoop,  or  reveille, 
from  the  shadowy  banks  around. 

Having  always  been  a  faithful  seeker  after 
border  legends  and  traditions  of  the  old  Indian 
wars,  I  could  not  help  calling  to  mind  a  few  of 
those  with  which  my  memory  was  stored,  and  en- 


56  A   WINTER   IN   THE    WEST. 

deavouring  to  lay  their  proper  venue  in  the  scenes 
around  me.  Unfortunately,  however,  there  was 
no  one  aboard  of  the  boat  who  could  enlighten  me 
in  this  respect ;  and  though  particularly  anxious  to 
see  the  spot  where  the  doughty  Adam  Poe,  like 
another  Jack  the  Giant-killer,  vanquished  a  Wy- 
andot large  enough  to  swallow  him  at  a  mouthful, 
I  could  only,  by  asking  the  distances,  from  time  to 
time,  along  the  river,  guess  at  the  point,  among 
others  similarly  associated  with  romantic  adven- 
ture.* 

The  peculiar  scenery  of  the  Ohio  has  been  so 

graphically  described  by  Flint  and  Hall,  in  their 

various  writings  upon  the  West,  that  I  will  not 

detain  you  by  dwelling  minutely  upon  its  features. 

The  prominent  characteristics  of  the  river,  are  a 

clear  winding  current,  studded  with  alluvial  islands, 

and  flowing  between  banks,  which  now  lie  in  a 

level  esplanade  of  several  hundred  acres,  elevated 

perhaps  fifty  feet  above  the  water,  and  again  swell 

boldly  from  the  margin  to  the  height  of  three  or 

four  hundred  feet  in  headlands,  which,  when  the 

mists  of  evening  settle  upon  the  landscape,  wear 

the  appearance  of  distant  mountains  ;  when  I  add 

that  an  occasional  farm-house,  with  its  luxuriant 

orchards  and  other  enclosures,  may  be  found  along 

•  See  note  A. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  57 

the  sma"er  "  bottoms,"  while  the  larger  ones  are 
frequently  enlivened  by  a  bustling  village,  reposing 
in  their  ample  bosoms,  you  have  the  main  features 
of  the  Ohio,  as  I  have  seen  it  between  Wheeling 
and  Pittsburg.  The  windings  of  the  river  present, 
at  every  turn,  some  of  the  most  beautiful  views  in 
the  world;  but  the  regular  alternations  of  "bluff" 
and  "bottom"  give  such  a  sameness  to  the  land- 
scape, that  unless  familiar  with  the  points  of  the 
country  around,  one  might  be  dropped  in  a  dozen 
different  places  along  the  river,  and  not  be  aware 
of  a  change  in  his  situation.  Nature  seems  to 
have  delighted  in  repeating  again  and  again  the 
same  lovely  forms,  which  she  first  moulded  in  this 
favourite  region. 

We  passed  Rapp's  flourishing  settlement,  called 
Economy,  during  the  day,  but  only  near  enough 
to  see  the  regular  arrangement  of  the  square  brick 
dwellings,  standing  about  twenty  feet  apart,  on 
broad  streets  which  intersect  each  other  at  right 
angles ;  the  factories  with  their  high  cupolas,  and 
the  thriving  orchards,  and  young  vineyards,  which 
stretch  along  the  banks  of  the  river  beyond  the 
suburbs.  I  may  hereafter,  if  I  have  time  to  visit 
it,  give  you  some  account  of  the  present  condition 
of  this  settlement,  which  belongs  to  a  society 
organized,  I  believe,  partially  upon  Mr.  Owen's 


58  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

plan.  The  site  of  the  town  was  formerly  a  fa- 
vourite rallying- point  for  the  Delaware  Indians, 
under  their  chief  Monahatoocha,  whose  council-fires 
once  blazed  where  now  the  smoke  of  a  dozen  fac- 
tories rolls  from  the  chimneys  of  the  German  emi- 
grant. What  a  contrast  between  the  toilsome 
race,  whose  clanking  machinery  is  now  the  only 
sound  that  greets  the  ear  as  you  near  the  shore, 
and  the  indolent  savage,  or  laughter-loving  French- 
man, who  once  stalked  along  the  borders,  or  danced 
over  the  bosom  of  the  beautiful  river. 

"How  changed  the  scene  since  merry  Jean  Baptiste 
Paddled  his  pirogue  on  La  Belle  Riviere, 
And  from  its  banks  some  lone  Loyola  priest 
Echoed  the  night  song  of  the  voyageur." 

The  afternoon  sun  shone  warmly  on  the  eastern 
bank  of  the  river,  where  the  increasing  number  of 
farm-houses,  and  occasionally  a  handsome  seat 
tastefully  planted  among  them,  with  its  hanging 
garden,  not  unfrequently  kissed  by  the  current  of 
the  river,  indicated  our  approach  to  the  city  of 
Pittsburg, — the  eastern  head  of  the  Mississippi 
Valley,  and  the  key  to  the  broad  region  bathed  by 
its  waters.  Our  course  lay  for  a  few  moments 
among  islands,  that  seemed  to  bloom  in  never- 
dying  verdure,  and  then,  as  we  escaped  from  their 


A    WINTER     IN    THE     WEST.  59 

green  cincture,  the  tall  cliffs  of  the  Monongahela, 
blackened  by  the  numerous  furnaces  that  smoke 
along  their  base,  and  pierced  in  various  points  with 
the  deep  coal  shafts  that  feed  their  fires,  frowned 
over  the  placid  water.     It  was  just  sunset,  and  the 
triangular  city,  with  its  steeples  peering  through  a 
cloud  of  dense  smoke,  and  its  two  rivers,  spanned 
each   by  a  noble   bridge,  that  seem,  when  thus 
viewed,  a  reflection  of  each  other,  lay  before  us. 
On  the  right,  the  calm  and  full  tide  of  the  Monon- 
gahela, flowing  beneath  rocky  banks,  some  three 
hundred  feet  in  elevation,  was  shaded  bv  the  im- 
pending  height,  and  reflected  the  blaze  of  a  dozen 
furnaces  in  its  sable  bosom.    On  the  left,  the  golden 
tints  of  sunset  still  played  over  the  clear  pebbly 
wave  of  the  Alleghany,  and  freshened  the  white 
outline  of  a  long,  low-built  nunnery,  standing  on  a 
sudden  elevation  back  from  the  river.     The  dusty 
city  lay  in  the  midst,  the  bridges  springing  from 
its  centre  terminating  the  view  up  both  rivers  ; 
while  the  mists  of  evening  were  rapidly  closing  in 
upon  the  undulating  country  that  formed  the  back- 
ground of  the  picture. 

Truly,  the  waters  have  here  chosen  a  lovely 
spot  for  their  meeting,  and  it  was  but  natural  that 
such  a  stream  as  the  Ohio  should  spring  from  such 
a  union.     Looking  backward  now  I  could  see  that 


60  A    WINTER    IN    THE     WEST. 

river,  like  a  young  giant  rejoicing  in  its  birth, 
sweeping  suddenly  on  its  course,  but  turning  every 
moment  among  its  green  islands,  as  if  to  look  back 
till  the  last  upon  the  home  of  its  infancy. 

We  entered  the  Monongahela,  and  disembarked 
a  few  hundred  yards  from  the  site  of  the  old  fort 
Du  Quesne.  The  river  was  some  twenty-jive  feet 
lower  than  usual,  and  giving  my  baggage  to  a  dray- 
man in  attendance,  I  ascended  the  bank,  and  soon 
found  my  way  through  streets,  which,  though 
neither  broad  nor  cheerful-looking,  are  still  well- 
built,  to  the  Exchange  Hotel  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  town.  Here  I  am  now  housed,  and,  after 
delivering  my  letters  and  looking  further  about  the 
place,  you  shall  have  the  result  of  my  observa- 
tions. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  61 


LETTER  VII. 

Pittsburg,  November  10th. 

It  was  a  bright,  bracing  autumnal  morning,  as 
I  rode  out  of  Pittsburg  with  a  party  of  gentlemen, 
for  "Braddock's  Field."  Our  route  followed  the 
course  of  the  river ;  sometimes  keeping  the  rich 
bottom  on  its  borders,  sometimes  ascending  a  hilly 
ridge.  The  height  commanded  a  wide  view  of 
the  river,  now  winding  between  steep  hills,  whose 
shadows  met  as  they  slept  upon  its  quiet  bo- 
som, now  expanding  into  a  small  lake,  so  com- 
pletely landlocked  that  it  seemed  to  have  no  con- 
nection with  the  bright  stream  seen  flashing  through 
the  meadows  farther  on.  After  catching  more 
than  one  glimpse  like  this  of  the  landscape  behind 
us,  whose  sunny  fields  contrasted  beautifully  with 
the  dense  smoke  of  Pittsburg  in  the  back-ground, 
we  struck  into  a  ravine  cutting  the  road  hitherto 
pursued  at  right  angles.  Winding  now  through 
a  deep  dingle,  where  the  path- side  was  festooned 
with  vines,  we  crossed  a  small  brook,  and  reached 
the  shore  of  the  Monongahela  opposite  to  a  broad 

VOL.  I. P 


62  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

alluvial  flat,  whose  high  cultivation  and  sunny 
aspect  contrasted  vividly  with  the  wild  and  se- 
cluded dell  from  the  mouth  of  which  we  beheld  it. 
The  road  next  led  for  some  distance  through  a 
wood  on  the  immediate  bank  of  the  river,  and  then 
gaining  the  more  public  highway,  we  found  our- 
selves, after  passing  several  comfortable  farm- 
houses, immediately  in  front  of  the  battle-ground. 

It  is  cut  up  now  by  three  or  four  enclosures, — 
the  field  upon  which  the  fight  was  hottest  lying 
nearly  in  the  centre,  bounded  on  one  side  by  the 
road,  and  having  its  opposite  extremity  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  river,  with  a  wooded 
flat  intervening.  Beyond  this  flat  is  the  ford  over 
which  Braddock  passed.  The  ground  about  two 
hundred  yards  from  the  ford  rises  in  a  gradual 
slope  for  some  two  hundred  yards  more,  and  then 
swells  suddenly  into  a  tolerably  steep  hill,  the  sum- 
mit of  which  may  be  half  a  mile  from  the  river. 
On  the  middle  slope  lies  the  central  field  of  action, 
to  which  I  have  already  alluded.  It  is  seamed 
with  two  shallow  ravines,  or  gullies,*  which  run 
parallel  with  each  other  towards  the  river,  and  arc 
about  gunshot  apart. 

';  *  These  gullies,  from  having  been  long  subjected  to  the  action  of 
the  plough,  are  now  but  little  more  than  mere  swales,  three  or  four 
yards  in  breadth,  and  as  many  feet  in  depth. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  63 

In  these  ravines,  concealed  by  the  underwood, 
and  protected  by  the  trunks  of  trees  felled  for  the 
purpose,  lay  the  French  and  Indian  force.  It 
amounted,  according  to  the  best  accounts,  to  only 
500  men,*  and  was  commanded  by  a  subaltern 
officer,  who  suggested  this  ambuscade  as  a  despe- 
rate expedient  to  save  Fort  Du  Quesne  from  the 
overwhelming  force  that  was  about  to  invest  it. 
The  road  of  Braddock  lay  immediately  between 
these  enfilading  parties. 

It  was  about  midday  when  he  passed  his  troops 
over  the  river  in  detachments  of  two  hundred  and 
five  hundred,  followed  by  the  column  of  artillery, 
the  baggage,  and  the  main  body  of  the  army,  com- 
manded by  himself  in  person.  The  latter  had 
hardly  time  to  form  upon  the  flat  below,  when  a 
quick  fire  in  front  told  them  that  the  two  detach- 
ments which  had  gained  the  first  slope  were 
already  engaged.  They  advanced  in  double 
quick  step  to  sustain  them  ;  but  the  whole  seven 
hundred  gave  way,  and  falling  back  upon  the  ad- 
vancing troops,  struck  panic  and  dismay  through- 
out the  ranks  in  a  moment.  The  confusion  seemed 
for  a  while  irremediable.  Some  fired  offtheir  am- 
munition without  aim  or  object,  and  others,  deaf  to 

*  See  note  B. 


64  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

the  commands  and  exhortations  of  their  officers, 
flung  away  their  arms,  and  gave  themselves  up  to 
despair. 

Burning  with  the  disgrace,  and  eager  to  shame 
their  soldiers  into  better  conduct,  the  British  of- 
ficers advanced  singly  and  in  squads  among  the 
bullets  of  the  enemy.  They  were  slaughtered  in- 
deed like  sheep  ;  but  their  men,  whose  retreat  had 
been  partially  cut  off  by  the  river,  rallied  at 
the  galling  sight.  The  cool  determination  of 
young  Washington,  who  had  already  had  two 
horses  shot  under  him,  and  his  clothes  pierced  with 
bullets,  imparted  some  steadiness  to  their  feelings, 
and  they  seemed  ready  to  protract  the  fight  to  the 
best  advantage.  The  madness  of  Braddock,  how- 
ever, whose  weak  mind  took  fire  at  the  idea  of 
receiving  a  lesson  from  a  provincial  youth  of  three- 
and-twenty,  destroyed  every  remaining  chance  of 
success.  He  insisted  upon  his  men  forming  on  the 
spot,  and  advancing  in  regular  platoon  against  an 
enemy  which  none  of  them  could  see.  Line  after 
line,  they  would  hardly  attain  a  pace  between  the 
fatal  ravines  before  they  would  be  mowed  down 
like  grass.  But  their  courage  was  now  up,  and 
though  broken,  and  in  some  disorder,  they  at- 
tempted with  courageous  pertinacity,  to  secure 
each  step  they  gained,  by  protecting  themselves 


A     WINTER     1$     THE     WEST.  65 

1 

behind  the  trees,  and  returning  the  murderous  fire 
of  the  foe  after  his  own  fashion.  The  military 
coxcomb  who  commanded  this  ill-fated  band  would 
not  hear  of  this.  He  stamped,  raved,  and  swore, 
called  his  men  cowards,  and  struck  them  with  his 
sword.  In  the  mean  time,  an  evolution  was  being 
executed  in  another  part  of  the  field  which  might 
yet  have  turned  the  fate  of  the  day.  Capt.  Wag- 
goner, of  the  Virginia  forces,  pushed  his  fine  corps, 
consisting  of  eighty  men,  beyond  the  voice  of  his 
besotted  commander,  to  the  summit  of  the  hill, 
with  the  loss  of  only  three  men,  in  running  the 
fearful  gauntlet  to  attain  that  position.  A  fallen 
tree  here  protected  his  brave  little  force,  and  en- 
abled him  to  rake  the  ravines,  which  lay  at  right 
angles  to  his  natural  breastwork,  to  great  advan- 
tage. But  the  Virginians  were  mistaken  by  their 
English  friends  below  for  a  new  enemy,  and  fired 
upon  so  furiously  that  they  were  compelled  to 
retreat  from  their  position  with  the  loss  of  two- 
thirds  of  the  corps,  killed  by  their  misguided  com- 
rades. Thus  was  the  strife  protracted  for  nearly 
three  hours,  when  the  fall  of  Braddock,  after  losing 
700  men  and  forty  officers,  put  an  end  to  the  blind 
conflict.  Fifteen  hundred  men,  being  thrice  the 
number  of  the  enemy,  escaped  to  tell  the  havoc 

p2 


66  A.    WINTER    IN    THE     WEST. 

of  the  day,   and  spread  consternation  and  horror 
throughout  the  province. 

The   military   chest  of  the   British,  containing 
25,000  pounds,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  as 
did  likewise  an  extensive  train  of  artillery,  with 
ammunition   and  provisions   to   a  large  amount. 
Among  those  who  perished  on  this  disastrous  oc- 
casion were   Sir  William   Shirley,  a  son   of  the 
Governor  of  New- York,  and   Sir  Peter  Halket,' 
with  one  of  his  sons,  and  other  officers  of  distinction 
or  promise.     Sir  John  St.  Clair  and  Lieut.  Colonel 
Gage,  afterward  well  known  in  our  revolutionary 
history,  were  among  the  wounded.     Many  of  the 
officers  fell  at  the  first  onset ;  but  Braddock  him- 
self had  advanced  some  distance  up  the  hill  when 
he  received  the  mortal  wound,  of  which  he  died  a 
day  or  two   afterward.     The   stump  of  the  tree 
against  which  he   leaned   after   being   struck    is 
still  pointed  out  in  a  wheat-field  above  the  high- 
way.    He  was  carried  off  by  the  flying  troops, 
and  dying  with  many  others  on  the  march,  was 
buried  beneath    the   road   over  which    his    men 
were  retreating. 

The  Letters  of  Horace  Walpole,  recently  pub- 
lished, have  thrown  a  light  upon  Braddoek's  char- 
acter that   should  put  an    end    at  once   to    all 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  67 

the  forbearance  hitherto  exercised  in  comment- 
ing upon  his  share  in  this  bloody  transaction 
The  misfortunes  of  the  hot  and  misguided,  but 
high-bred  and  gallant  soldier  were  to  be  touched 
upon  with  lenity :  the  selfish  rashness  and  utter 
destitution  of  military  capacity  of  the  broken-down 
gambler  should  be  stigmatized  as  they  deserve. 
Yet  it  is  not  from  Walpole  alone  that  we  learn 
what  a  presumptuous  blockhead  England  sent 
hither  to  mend  his  ruined  fortunes,  at  the  risk  of 
the  best  blood  in  the  country ;  for,  though  history 
has  dealt  so  leniently  with  his  character,  the  re- 
cords of  those  times  paint  the  man  in  his  true 
colours ;  and  so  gross  was  his  ignorance,  and  so 
offensive  his  pride,  that  he  seems  to  have  been 
hated  and  despised  from  the  moment  he  assumed 
the  command  of  the  forces  destined  hither.  The 
interest  with  which  I  viewed  the  battle-ground  has 
kept  me  all  the  morning  looking  over  a  mass  of 
documents  relating  to  those  times,  and,  as  they  are 
still  before  me,  I  am  tempted  to  make  more  than 
one  extract.  "  We  have  a  general,"  writes  the 
brave  and  accomplished  Sir  William  Shirley,  from 
the  camp  at  Cumberland,  to  his  friend  Governor 
Morris,  at  Philadelphia — "  we  have  a  general  most 
judiciously  chosen  for  being  disqualified  for  the 
service  he  is  employed  in,  in  almost  every  respect. 


68  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

I  am  greatly  disgusted  at  seeing  an  expedition  (as 
it  is  called)  so  ill-concerted  originally  in  England, 
so  ill-appointed,  and  so  improperly  conducted  since 
in  America.  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  have  to  re- 
tract hereafter  what  I  have  said,  and  submit  to  be 
censured  as  moody  and  apprehensive.  I  hope,  my 
dear  Morris,  to  spend  a  tolerable  winter  with  you 
at  Philadelphia."  Poor  Shirley  !  He  never  saw  that 
winter.  He  was  shot  through  the  brain  at  the  very 
commencement  of  the  battle. 

There  is  a  lively  comment  on  this  letter  in  the 
well-known  reply  of  Braddock  to  the  prudent  sug- 
gestions of  Washington,  previous  to  the  battle, 
when  he  urged  his  commanding  officer  to  push  an 
advanced  guard  into  the  wood  before  his  main 
body : — "  By  G — d,  sir,  these  are  high  times,  when 
a  British  general  is  to  take  counsel  from  a  Vir- 
ginia buckskin !" 

The  speech  of  an  Indian  chief  before  the 
council  of  Pennsylvania,  preserved  among  the 
State  records  at  Harrisburg,  offers  an  illustration 
still  more  striking.  "  Brothers,"  said  the  sagacious 
ally  of  the  colonists,  "  it  is  well  known  to  you  how 
unhappily  we  have  been  defeated  by  the  French  on 
Monongahela  :  we  must  let  you  know  that  it  was 
all  of  the  pride  and  ignorance  of  that  great  general 
that  came  from  England.    He  is  now  dead ;  but 


.    • 


A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  69 

he  was  a  bad  man  when  he  was  alive.  He  looked 
upon  us  as  dogs,  and  would  never  hear  any  thing 
that  was  said  to  him.  We  often  endeavoured  to 
advise  him,  and  to  tell  him  of  the  danger  he  was  in 
with  his  soldiers  ;  but  he  never  appeared  pleased 
with  us,  and  that  was  the  reason  that  a  great  many 
of  our  warriors  left  him,  and  would  not  be  under 
his  command.  Brothers,  we  advise  you  not  to 
give  up  the  point,  though  we  have  in  a  measure 
been  chastised  from  above.  But  let  us  unite  our 
strength.  You  are  very  numerous,  and  all  the 
governors  along  your  eastern  shores  can  raise  men 
enough.  Don't  let  those  that  come  over  the  great 
seas  be  concerned  any  more.  They  are  unfit  to 
fight  in  the  woods.  Let  us  go  by  ourselves — we 
that  come  out  of  this  ground.  We  may  be  assured 
to  conquer  the  French."  The  military  counsel 
and  support  of  this  intrepid  and  high-souled  chief- 
tain would  have  been  heard  at  least,  even  if  it  did 
not  prevail,  in  the  camp  of  Napoleon.  Does  it  not 
make  you  indignant  to  think  how  it  was  trampled 
upon  and  insulted  by  such  a  creature  as  Braddock  ? 
One  would  have  thought  that  the  insolent  spirit  of 
the  London  debauchee  would  have  felt  rebuked 
into  nothingness  before  the  genius  of  the  warrior 
of  the  woods.  But  let  the  man  rest ;  he  had  that 
one  virtue  to  which  all  weak  minds  bow — courage. 


70  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

And  so  had  the  Hessians  that  in  a  subsequent  war 
were  bought  to  fight  against  us  for  sixpence 
a  day.  May  we  rather  meet,  again  and  again, 
such  brave  mercenaries  in  battle,  than  be  mar- 
shalled once  to  the  fight  by  a  leader  whom  even 
valour  cannot  shelter  from  deserved  contempt. 

The  field  of  this  celebrated  action  presents,  of 
course,  a  very  different  appearance  from  what  it 
did  when  Braddock's  followers  were  here  hunted 
through  the  forest.  It  is,  however,  but  a  few  years 
since  the  wood  was  cut  from  the  side-hill,  and  traces 
of  the  conflict  are  still  occasionallv  discovered  in  the 
grove  along  the  margin  of  the  river  below.  I  was 
told,  too,  that  bones  and  bullets,  with  rusted  knives, 
hatchets,  and  bayonets,  were  sometimes  even  yet 
turned  up  by  the  plough  on  the  spot  where  the  fight 
was  hottest.  The  central  enclosure  was  cleared 
about  seventeen  years  since.  It  was  heavily  tim- 
bered at  the  time,  and  they  tell  in  the  neighbour- 
hood that  the  teeth  of  the  saws  in  the  mills  adja- 
cent were  continually  broken  upon  the  balls  im- 
bedded in  the  ancient  trees.  Quantities  of 
human  bones  and  rust-eaten  weapons  are  said 
to  have  been  found  beneath  the  surface  of  the  soil, 
when  the  plough  first  invaded  this  memorable 
wood.  I  picked  up  a  bone  myself,  which  my 
horse's  hoof  disengaged  from  the  soil;    but   my 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  71 

skill  in  anatomy  not  being  sufficient  to  determine 
whether  it  was  even  human  or  not,  I  returned  the 
mouldering  relic  to  the  dust,  of  which  it  was  rap- 
idly becoming  a  part.     It  was  an  animated  and  in- 
teresting hour's  amusement,  after  our  party  had 
taken  down  the  intermediate  fences,  which  were 
too  high  to  clear,  to  gallop  over  the  whole  battle- 
ground, and  survey  it  from  every  point.     A  prettier 
spot  to  fight  on  never  greeted  the  eye  of  a  soldier. 
The  undulations  of  the  field  are  just  sufficient  to 
exercise  a  nice  military  discrimination  in  the  choice 
of  position,  while  the  ground  is  yet  so  little  broken 
that  cavalry  might  act  on  any  part  of  it  to  advan- 
tage.    The  centre  of  the  battle-field  would  com- 
mand a  fine  view  of  the  river,  were  but  a  vista  or 
two  cut  in  the  wood  below ;  and  even  now  it  offers 
a  beautiful  site  for  a  private  residence,  and  would, 
with  the  lands  adjacent,  make  a  noble  park.    There 
are  a  few  superb  oaks  still  standing  at  the  foot  of 
the  slope,  which  might  constitute  a  lawn,  and — 
what  must  enhance  the  value  of  the  place  with  all 
faithful  ghost-believers  and  pious  lovers   of  the 
marvellous — the  dim  form  of  the  red  savage,  with 
the  ghastly  spectre  of  his  pallid  victim  shrinking 
before  it,  it  is  said,  may  be  seen  gliding  at  times 
among  these  hoary  trunks.     The  exorcising  light 
of  noon  most  perversely  shone  down  among  them 


72  A     WINTER    IN     THE    WEST. 

while  I  lingered  near  the  spot,  but  I  could  fancy 
that  the  November  wind  which  sighed  among 
their  branches  was  charged  at  times  with  a  wailing 
sound,  such — such  in  fact  as  an  orthodox  tree  in  a 
perfect  state  of  health  would  never  make  of  its  own 
accord. 

Returning  home,   one   of  the   party   proposed 
stopping  at  a  gentleman's  house  in  the  vicinity, 
where  a  number  of  articles  picked  up  from  the 
field  were  said  to  be  collected.     Not  a  soul  of  us 
knew  the  proprietor  of  the  establishment,  and  it 
would  have  amused  you  to  see  the  effect  produced 
upon  its  inmates, — whom  I  soon  ascertained  to  be  a 
large  collection  of  boarding-school  young  ladies, — 
by   our   formidable   descent    upon   the   premises. 
We  were  asked  into  a  handsome  parlour,  and  in 
about  fifteen  minutes  our  host  appeared.    A  gentle- 
man of  our  number,  whose  western  frankness  of 
manner  made  him  the  most  suitable  spokesman  at 
such  an  awkward  meeting,   opened  the  prelimi- 
naries, and  apologizing  for  our  unceremonious  in- 
trusion, revealed  our  character  as  relic  hunters. 
The   stranger  host,   overlooking  the   absence   of 
u  sandal  shoon  and  scallop  shell,"  welcomed  us  at 
once  with  the  same  politeness  that  pilgrims  have 
ever  received  in  civilized  countries,  and  regretting 
that  he  had  not  even  a  remnant  to  swear  by — not 


A    WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  73 

an  atom  of  a  relic — sent  us  home  to  our  supper 
with  appetites  considerably  sharpened  by  the  dis- 
appointment. 

Returning,  I  diverged  with  one  of  the  company 
from  the  direct  road  a  little,  to  take  a  look  at  the 
United  States'  arsenal.  It  lies  on  the  banks  of  the 
Alleghany,  and  consists,  together  with  the  officers' 
quarters,  of  a  number  of  handsome  brick-buildings, 
painted  cream  colour,  and  so  arranged  with  re- 
gard to  each  other  as  that,  in  connection  with  the 
improved  grounds  adjacent,  they  make  quite  a 
handsome  appearance. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  we  got  fairly  into  town, 
where  the  dust  and  smoke,  with  the  rattling  of 
drays  along  the  streets,  returning  from  their  day's 
work  to  the  suburbs,  reminded  me  not  a  little  of 
my  own  bustling  city  at  night-fall.  There  is  one 
sound,  however,  in  the  streets  of  Pittsburg  whicA 
utterly  forbids  a  stranger  mistaking  them  for  those 
of  anv  other  town  on  the  continent — it  is  the  cease- 
less  din  of  the  steam-engines.  Every  mechanic 
here,  of  any  pretension,  has  one  of  these  tremendous 
journeymen  at  work  in  his  establishment.  They 
may  be  purchased  for  what  would  be  the  price  of 
a  pair  of  horses  in  New-York ;  and  it  costs  a 
mere  trifle  to  keep  them  in  fuel.  These  machines 
must  do  the  work  of  a  great  many  thousand  men 

VOL.  I. G 


74  A    WINTER    IN    THE     WEST. 

at  Pittsburg ;  and  though  I  am  hardly  such  a  friend 
of  universal  suffrage  as  to  think  that  these  substi- 
tutes for  men  ought  to  be  represented  in  the  legis- 
lature, yet,  upon  my  word,  they  should  always  be 
taken  into  consideration  when  estimating  the  popu- 
lation of  the  place,  which  their  industrious  labour 
renders  so  flourishing. 

"  Proud  deeds  these  iron-men  have  done." 


A    WINTER    IN     THE     WE8T.  75 


LETTER  VIII. 

Pittsburg,  Nov.  8. 

There  is  no  place  in  the  Western  country,  as 
Judge  Baldwin  observed,  in  his  address  before  the 
Mechanics'  Institution  of  Pittsburg,  "  which  can 
more  justly  boast  of  its  small  beginnings,  its  rapid 
but  solid  growth,  and  its  future  greatness,"  than 
this.  It  is  about  seventy  years  since  General 
Washington,  then  a  young  man  of  two-and- 
twenty,  was  despatched  by  Governor  Dinwiddie 
of  Virginia  to  the  French  commander  on  Le 
Baeuf  (near  Erie),  to  demand  that  he  should  desist 
from  aggression  upon  the  British  frontier.  The 
young  officer,  on  his  return  down  the  Alleghany, 
upon  a  raft  made  with  tomahawks,  was  wrecked 
with  a  single  Indian  attendant,  on  an  island  near 
the  present  city  of  Pittsburg.  The  situation  of  the 
point  of  land  formed  by  "  the  forks  of  the  Ohio" 
at  once  caught  his  military  eye ;  and  crossing  on 
the  ice  in  the  morning,  he  examined  the  position 
with  sufficient  minuteness  to  impress  his  com- 
mander with  its  importance.     The  spot  was  soon 


76  A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

after  taken  possession  of  by  a  small  colonial  force, 
which  in  1754  was  easily  dispersed  by  the  formid- 
able descent  of  the  French  under  Contrecoeur.  He 
came  with  a  thousand  men  at  his  back,  and  floated 
various  munitions  of  war,  among  which  were 
eighteen  pieces  of  cannon,  in  three  hundred  and 
sixty  canoes,  down  the  Alleghany.  The  first 
blow  was  struck  of  the  old  French  war,  which 
lost  France  all  her  possessions  east  of  the 
Mississippi.  Contrecoeur  intrenched  himself  upon 
the  spot,  and  the  bloody  annals  of  Fort  Du  Quesne 
received  their  first  notoriety  from  this  bold  in- 
vader. 

Thirty  years  afterward  the  place,  now  become 
known  as  Fort  Pitt  began  to  assume  commercial 
importance  from  the  Indian  fur-trade  then  carried 
on  with  vigour  from  this  point.  An  increase  of 
population  ensued ;  the  extensive  coal-beds  in  the 
vicinity  began  to  be  appreciated ;  they  indicated 
the  prodigious  manufacturing  resources  of  the 
rising  town  of  Pittsburg.  The  adjacent  country 
became  rapidly  peopled,  and  it  was  soon  the 
agricultural  depot  for  the  rich  region  on  this  side 
of  the  Alleghanies.  The  genius  of  Fulton  ma- 
tured at  once  the  rising  fortunes  of  Pittsburg, 
and  gave  her  a  market  for  her  overflowing  pro- 
ductions. 


▲    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  77 

Situated  two  thousand  miles  from  New-Orleans, 
by  the  aid  of  steam  she  supplies  the  whole  of  the 
intermediate  region  with  hardware,  machinery 
and  cutlery.*  But  it  is  not  for  this  manufacture 
alone  that  Pittsburg,  though  often  called  the 
"  Birmingham  of  America,"  is  celebrated.  Her 
extensive  glass-works  are  well  known  even  beyond 
the  Alleghanies  ;  and  this  fragile  production  of  her 
workshops  finds  its  way  alike  to  the  borders  of 
Lake  Erie  and  of  the  Atlantic,  and  may  be  met  in 
the  elegant  mansions  of  Baltimore  and  the  remote 
shantees  of  the  Arkansaw. 

The  timber-trade  is  another  great  feature  in  the 
business  relations  of  Pittsburg  ;  the  boards  and 
scantling  measured  within  the  city  in  1830 
amounted  to  more  than  five  millions  of  feet ;  of 
this  a  great  deal  was  floated  down  the  branches  of 
the  Alleghany  River  from  the  south-western  coun- 
ties of  New- York.  The  romantic  hills  of  Cha- 
tauque  county  supply  not  a  few  of  the  stately 
trunks  which,  after  being  hewn  into  shape  at  Pitts- 
burg, subsequently  float  the  varied  products  of 
Northern  industry  through  many  a  stranger  cli- 

*  Bloom-iron,  I  am  told,  is  brought  hither  for  manufacture 
from  the  forges  on  the  Juniata,  from  Tennessee,  Kentucky,  and 
Missouri ;  and  contracts  are  frequently  made  for  $38  per  ton  to 
take  the  blooms  at  St.  Louis,  and  return  them  rolled  iron. 

G  2 


78  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST* 

mate  to  the  rich  markets  of  Louisiana.     You  will 
not  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  freight  exported 
from  Pittsburg  in   1830  amounted  to  upwards  of 
18,000  tons,  its  imports  for  the  same  year  being 
more  than  14,000  tons.     The  city  is  now,  with  the 
adjacent  villages  of  Alleghany-townand  Lawrence- 
ville  on  the  Alleghany,  and  Birmingham  and  Man- 
chester on  the  Monongahela,the  third  town  in  popu- 
lation, wealth,  and  importance  in  the  Mississippi 
valley.  Next  to  its  admirable  situation,  the  flourish- 
ing condition  of  the  place  is  no  doubt  to  be  mainly 
attributed  to  the  inexhaustible  quantities  of  fine 
bituminous  coal  which  may  be  had  for  the  digging 
in  all  the  adjacent  hills.     Pittsburg  is,  however, 
indebted  to  the  character  of  her  early  settlers  for 
her    present   eminence;    they    were    chiefly  me- 
chanics, enterprising,  industrious,  practical  men ; 
the  improvements  they  commenced  were  based 
upon  utility,  and  every  path  of  trade  they  struck 
out  led  to  some  immediate  and  tangible  good.    The 
result  shows  itself  in  one  of  the  most  substantial 
and  flourishing,  but  least  elegant,  cities  on  the  conti- 
nent.    The  site  of  the  town  I  have  already  de- 
scribed to  you  as  one  of  the  most  beautiful  that  can 
be  imagined.     The  want  of  beauty  in  the  place 
itself  is  to  be  attributed  entirely  to  the  manner  in 
which  it  is  laid  out,  for  the  streets,  though  by  no 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  79 

means  wide,  are  well  and  substantially  built  upon 
with  brick  ;  and  a  species  of  yellow  freestone  found 
in  the  vicinity  is  coming  into  use,  which,  for  ele- 
gance as  a  building-material,  is  not  surpassed  by 
marble  itself.  The  great  defect  in  the  town  is  the 
total  want  of  public  squares,  and,  indeed,  of  an 
agreeable  promenade  of  any  kind  ;  this  is  the  more 
remarkable,  I  might  almost  say  provoking,  as  Pitts- 
burg boasts  of  one  spot  which,  if  converted  into  a 
public  place,  would,  from  the  view  it  commands, 
be  unrivalled  by  any  thing  of  the  kind  in  the 
Union,  unless  it  be  the  Battery  of  New- York.  I 
allude  to  a  triangular  piece  of  ground,  at  the  con- 
fluence of  the  two  rivers,  at  the  end  of  the  town. 
It  is  the  site  of  the  old  forts,  and  commands  the 
first  view  of  the  Ohio,  and  the  finest  of  its  waters 
I  have  yet  seen ;  the  prospect  I  have  described  to 
you  in  a  former  letter.  Had  but  the  ancient  fortifi- 
cations been  preserved,  this  would  have  been  one 
of  the  most  interesting  spots  upon  the  continent ;  of 
Fort  Du  Quesne  there  remains  now  but  a  small 
mound,  containing,  perhaps,  a  couple  of  loads  of 
earth ;  Fort  Pitt  may  be  more  easily  traced,  part 
of  three  bastions,  about  breast-high,  stand  within 
different  private  enclosures,  and  a  piece  of  the 
curtain,  which,  within  a  few  years,  was  in  complete 
preservation,  may  still  be  discovered  among  the 


80  A    WINTER    IN     THE    WEST. 

piles  of  lumber  in  a  steam  saw-mill  yard.  The 
commandant's  quarters,  a  steep-roofed  brick  dwell- 
ing, in  the  form  of  a  pentagon,  is,  however,  the 
only  perfect  remnant  of  these  old  military  struc- 
tures. I  expected  to  have  seen  the  magazine  of 
the  fort,  which  I  was  told  was  an  admirable  piece 
of  masonry,  and  still  endured  in  the  shape  of  a 
porter-cellar ;  but  upon  arriving  at  the  spot  where 
it  had  stood  but  a  few  weeks  before,  a  pile  of  rough 
stones  was  all  that  we  could  discover.  In  a  coun- 
try like  ours,  where  so  few  antiquities  meet  the  eye, 
it  is  melancholy  to  see  these  interesting  remnants 
thus  destroyed,  and  the  very  landmarks  where 
they  stood  effaced  for  ever.  Occasionally,  too,  the 
works  of  which  every  vestige  is  thus  painfully 
obliterated  were,  especially  when  erected  by  the 
French,  of  a  peculiarly  striking  character.  The 
French  engineers,  who  first  introduced  the  art  of 
fortification  into  this  country,  were  of  the  school 
of  Vauban,  and  the  enduring  monuments  they 
raised  were  not  less  noble  proofs  of  their  skill  than 
were  the  sites  selected  of  their  high  military  dis- 
cernment. 

There  is  yet  another  place  in  Pittsburg  which 
at  some  future  day  should  be  appropriated  as  a 
public  square ;  a  triangular  bluff  about  one  hun- 
dred feet  high  stretches  like  a  huge  promontory 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  81 

far  into  the  town,  and  overlooks  the  whole  place. 
The  Pittsburgers,  however,  I  fear,  are  more  bent 
upon  increasing  their  "fathers'  store"  than  on 
beautifying  the  favoured  spot  in  which  they  dwell ; 
and  it  requires  all  the  cordial  hospitality  of  the 
place  to  reconcile  a  stranger  to  the  few  city  im- 
provements he  sees  going  forward,  in  a  community 
so  pre-eminent  for  its  individual  enterprise.  I 
wish  we  could  lend  them  our  "improving"  corpo- 
ration for  a  few  weeks, — they  would  be  really  of 
service  here,  and  could  easily  be  spared  at  home  ; 
they  might,  too,  learn  more  than  one  thing  of  the 
Pittsburgers,  and  especially  how  to  supply  the 
city  with  pure  water ;  we  have  it  here  in  the 
greatest  abundance.  The  water  is  pumped  up 
from  the  Alleghany  by  a  steam-engine,  into  a  large 
open  basin,  situated  on  an  eminence  known  as 
Grant's  Hill,  from  the  signal  defeat  of  that  rash  but 
gallant  officer  at  its  base,  during  the  old  French 
war.  From  this  ample  reservoir  pipes  conduct 
the  fluid  to  every  part  of  the  city.  A  large  Gothic 
cathedral  is  now  about  to  be  erected  near  the 
water-works. 

You  remember  Grant's  fight,  as  described  by 
Hall,  in  his  beautiful  Western  Sketches.  Grant 
bivouacked  beneath  the  hill  now  called  after  him, 
and   ordering  his  reveille  to  beat  at  dawn;  the 


82  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

French  and  Indians  charged  upon  him  to  the  sound 
of  his  own  trumpets,  and  cut  his  troops  to  pieces. 
His  force,  I  believe,  consisted  chiefly  of  High- 
landers. The  skeleton  of  a  young  officer,  with 
gold  in  his  pocket  and  marks  of  rank  about  his  per- 
son, was  turned  up  in  a  field  not  far  distant,  a  few 
years  since.  A  western  poet,  of  whose  existence 
I  first  became  aware  through  a  file  of  the  Pitts- 
burg Gazette  (for  the  use  of  which,  with  many 
interesting  facts  relating  to  the  adjacent  country, 
I  am  indebted  to  the  politeness  of  Mr.  Craig,  the 
editor),  has  commemorated  the  incident  in  some 
verses,  among  which  are  the  following  simple 
lines: — 

"  One  Highland  officer  that  bloody  day 
Retreated  up  the  Alleghany  side  ; 
Wounded  and  faint,  he  missed  his  tangled  way, 
And  near  its  waters  laid  him  down  and  died. 

'Twas  in  a  furrow  of  a  sandy  swell 

Which  overlooks  the  clear  and  pebbled  wave  ; 

Shrouded  in  leaves,  none  found  him  where  he  fell, 
And  mouldering  nature  gave  the  youth  a  grave. 

Last  year  a  plough  passed  o'er  the  quiet  spot, 
And  brought  to  light  frail  vestiges  of  him, 

Whose  unknown  fate  perhaps  is  not  forgot, 
And  fills  with  horror  yet  a  sister's  dream." 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  83 

On  the  side  of  the  hill  is  a  place  still  pointed  out 
as  "  Grant's  grave."  I  know  not  why  it  should  be 
thus  designated,  however ;  for  I  believe  that  the 
worthy  colonel,  who  afterward  served  in  the 
British  armv  during  the  Revolution,  never  returned 
to  lay  his  bones  in  a  spot  where  the  spirits  of  his 
rashly  sacrificed  soldiers  might  have  made  him  un- 
easy in  his  grave.  There  is  a  more  authentic 
tomb  on  the  western  bank  of  the  Alleghany :  it  is 
the  last  resting-place  of  an  Indian,  who,  as  tradition 
avers,  seeing  "  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt," 
shot  himself  for  love  ! — an  instance  of  intense  re- 
gard— of  passionate  devotion  to  woman  which 
most  writers  upon  Indian  character  would  have  us 
believe  could  never  exhibit  itself  in 

"  The  stoic  of  the  woods." 

The  walks  and  rides  in  the  environs  of  Pitts- 
burg are  rendered  interesting  by  a  variety  of  ob- 
jects, besides  the  fine  scenery  through  which  they 
lead.  A  description  of  the  Pennsylvania  Canal, 
which  flows  on  an  aqueduct  over  the  Alleghany, 
and  passing  through  a  tunnel  of  a  few  yards  in 
length,  locks  into  the  Monongahela,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  city,  would  furnish  you  with  no  newer 
ideas  than  a  description  of  any  other  canal.  The 
Nunnery,  which  is  also  one  of  the  lions  of  the 
neighbourhood,  I  have  not  hitherto  had  an  oppor- 


84  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

tunity  to  visit,  and  "  Braddock's  field"  you  have 
already  in  a  letter  by  itself;  so,  having  now  a  toler- 
able idea  of  the  town — with  its  compact  brick 
dwellings,  dingy  with  coal-smoke ;  its  natural 
wharves,  where  the  Ohio  rises  25  feet ;  its  gravelly 
banks,  lined  with  steamboats  and  river-craft,  and 
bustling  with  business  operations  upon  the  most 
extensive  scale — you  must  follow  me  in  my  ride  of 
this  morning  along  the  Monongahela. 

The  fog  and  coal-smoke  together  rendered  the 
atmosphere  so  thick,  even  after  crossing  the  bridge 
over  the  river  to  a  straggling  village  opposite,  that 
I  verily  believe  it  was  only  the  dazzling  sparkle  of 
a  pair  of  queen-like  eyes,  marshalling  me  through 
the  gloom,  that  enabled  me  to  ascend  the  opposite 
height  with  safety.  Leaving  the  rest  of  the  party 
far  behind,  I  followed  their  beautiful  and  high- 
spirited  owner  up  a  windng  path,  where  our  horses, 
after  sinking  to  their  fetlocks  in  the  clayey  soil, 
would  slip  half  a  pace  backward  at  every  step,  and 
gained  at  last  an  elevation  nearly  five  hundred  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  river,  where,  to  my  surprise, 
instead  of  a  sudden  descent  upon  the  opposite  side, 
the  eminence  continued  rising  in  a  succession  of 
fertile  fields,  until  the  last  green  slope  was  ter- 
minated by  a  distant  wood.  We  rode  along  the 
edge  of  the  precipice  for  a  mile  or  two,  and  from 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  85 

the  state  of  the  atmosphere  on  the  side  towards  the 
town,  you  can  conceive  nothing  more  singular 
than  the  effect  of  the  scene  below.  Imagine  your- 
self standing  on  Weehawk  Height,  with  your  own 
city  brought  immediately  beneath  your  feet,  the 
whole  landscape  bright  and  clear  above,  and  a 
cloud  so  impervious  below  that  not  an  object  can 
be  discerned  at  five  yards'  distance.  The  gulf 
seems  unfathomable.  The  hoarse  jar  of  machinery 
comes  upon  the  ear  like  the  groans  of  a  nether 
world  ;  and  the  lurid  flame  which  ever  and  anon 
shoots  from  some  furnace  athwart  the  gloom  shows 
like  the  penal  element  itself.  But  now  the  noon- 
day sun  has  pierced  into  that  murky  glen, — the  fog 
begins  to  rise, — a  gilded  spire  glances  here  and 
there  in  the  broad  sunshine,  and  some  tall  head- 
land stands  greenly  out  from  the  silver  veil  that 
wraps  its  base ;  the  banner  from  yonder  arsenal 
floats  gayly  forth  in  the  warm  air  ;  and  as  the  flaky 
mist  rolls  more  rapidly  up  the  river,  begins  to 
stream  upon  the  freshening  breeze.  The  rivers 
themselves  can  now  be  traced  far  away,  with 
many  a  dewy  island  stealing  out,  one  by  one,  upon 
their  bosom.  Beneath,  a  bustling  city  seems  as  if 
it  had  sprung  at  once  to  life,  while  the  quiet  farm- 
houses slowly  appear  upon  the  sleeping  fields 
beyond. 

VOL.  I. H 


86  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

This  single  view  is  worth  a  journey  to  Pitts- 
burg. 

I  took  an  opportunity,  while  a  lady  of  the  party 
stopped  to  visit  a  pensioner  in  a  cottage  by  the 
road-side,  to  examine  a  coal-pit  just  beneath  the 
brow  of  the  hill.  Dismounting  on  a  small  plat- 
form some  two  hundred  feet  above  the  river,  from 
which  a  railway  empties  the  coal  into  the  coke- 
kilns  upon  its  bank  and  the  freight-boats  upon  the 
shore,  I  entered  an  aperture  in  the  rock,  about  six 
feet  in  height  and  four  in  breadth.  A  guide  pre- 
ceded me  with  a  candle,  and  after  penetrating 
under  his  escort  a  few  hundred  yards,  I  turned 
aside  to  explore  some  of  the  adjacent  shafts  :  they 
lie  like  the  streets  of  one  main  avenue, — the  veins 
of  a  grand  artery,  which,  after  winding  through 
the  body  of  the  hill,  for  the  distance  of  half  a  mile, 
finds  its  way  again  to  the  light.  In  one  of  these 
cavernous  passages,  in  a  ledge  of  the  rock,  lay  a 
sleeping  man,  the  water  trickling  from  the  black 
walls  around  was  the  only  sound  to  disturb  his 
slumbers  ;  a  long- wicked  candle  stuck  in  a  crevice 
above  his  head,  shining  over  thickly-matted  locks, 
and  features  begrimmed  with  coal-dust,  revealed  a 
figure  of  gigantic  mould.  The  mattock  on  which 
his  ponderous  arm  reposed  told  that  it  was  only  a 
miner  at  his  noonday  nap  ;  but  he  might  have  been 


▲     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  87 

mistaken,  by  one  coming  suddenly  upon  his  singular 
place  of  repose,  for  a  slumbering  Titan,  who, 
though  pent  within  such  narrow  confines,  might 
yet  shake  the  mountain  piled  upon  him  to  its 
base. 

Our  route  now,  after  leading  still  farther  along 
the  height,  commanding  at  every  step  some  new 
view  of  the  town  and  the  adjacent  country,  with 
the  three  rivers  seaming  its  bosom,  struck  at  last 
into  a  fine  wood,  and  then  descending  suddenly 
into  a  romantic  dell,  followed  a  small  stream 
which  soon  led  us  back  to  the  Ohio.  Here,  again, 
might  be  traced  a  display  of  French  taste,  which, 
when  the  fabric  was  entire,  must  have  been  ex- 
ceedingly beautiful.  It  was  the  remains  of  a  mill- 
dam  constructed  by  the  officers  of  Fort  Du 
Quesne,  according  to  the  most  approved  rules  of 
the  time,  like  a  perfect  fortification  ;  a  part  of  the 
curtain,  with  traces  of  some  of  the  bastions,  yet 
reward  the  eye  of  the  curious.  At  the  mouth  of 
the  glen  we  paused  to  look  at  a  salt  factory  ;  and 
then  crossing  a  bridge  over  the  brook,  we  passed 
by  a  steel  factory,  and  several  coke-kilns,  situated 
along  the  base  of  the  cliff,  from  the  summit  of 
which  I  had  recently  looked  down  upon  and  ad- 
mired the  scene  below. 


99  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

The  embouchure  of  the  Monongahela  was  at 
hand,  and  stepping  on  board  of  a  small  horse-boat 
at  the  point  where  that  river  loses  itself  in  the 
Ohio,  I  soon  terminated  on  the  opposite  side  one  oi 
the  most  delightful  rides  I  can  recollect  to  have 
taken, 


A.     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  89 


LETTER  IX. 

Cleaveland,  Ohio,  Nov.  15. 

I  took  my  passage  in  the  stage-coach  for  this  place 
early  in  the  evening  three  days  since,  and  having 
at  a  late  hour  bade  adieu  to  more  than  one  whose 
friendship  I  trust  will  not  be  the  less  enduring  that 
it  was  made  in  so  brief  a  space  of  time,  retired  to 
my  chamber  to  catch  a  nap  before  my  morning's 
ride.  The  clock  was  striking  three,  when  at  the 
call  of  the  porter  I  rose  and  descended  to  the 
bar-room.  The  attentive  landlord,  himself  in 
waiting,  was  ruminating  before  a  large  coal-fire ; 
and  stretched  upon  the  floor  in  a  corner  lay  the 
tired  domestic,  who,  having  just  fulfilled  a  part  of 
his  duty,  in  awakening  the  various  passengers,  was 
catching  a  dog-nap  before  the  stage-coach  should 
drive  to  the  door.  The  flavour  of  last  night's  pota- 
tions still  hung  around  the  scene  of  so  many  sym- 
posia, and  the  fragrance  of  more  than  one  recently 
smoked  segar  stole,  charged  with  the  aroma  of  whis- 
key, upon  the  senses.  Cold  as  it  was,  I  was  not  sorry 

to  snuff  a  less  scented  atmosphere,  as  each  stage 

h2 


90  A     WINTER     IN     THE    WEST. 

that  passed  the  house  in  succession  hurried  me 
vainly  to  the  door.  My  own  proper  vehicle  came 
at  last,  and  by  the  light  of  the  stage  lamps, — the 
only  ones,  by-the-by,  which  shone  through  the 
sleeping  city, — I  climbed  to  the  coachman's  box,  and 
took  the  traveller's  favourite  seat  by  his  side.  It 
was  as  dark  as  Erebus  when  we  crossed  the  bridge 
over  the  Alleghany,  and  looking  back  when  we 
had  passed  the  gate  and  were  turning  into  the 
village,  I  could  distinguish  nothing  of  the  city 
opposite  but  the  red  glare  of  a  furnace  which  shot 
out  from  the  bank  of  the  river,  and  glowed  an  in- 
verted pyramid  of  light  upon  its  waters.  Keeping 
on  our  way,  the  massive  walls  of  the  state-prison, 
with  their  circular  towers  and  octangular  area, 
frowned  like  some  old  Moorish  castle  over  our 
path,  as  we  drove  beneath  their  dun-coloured  bat- 
tlements, and  passed  the  last  environs  of  Pittsburg. 
It  was,  I  confess,  with  some  soberness  of  spirit 
that  I  bade  a  last  adieu  to  a  spot  where  the  polite- 
ness and  hospitality  of  the  inhabitants  had  made 
my  time  pass  so  pleasantly.  I  must,  however, 
have  been  de  trop  among  my  new  acquaintances, 
had  I  remained  much  longer :  for  in  Pittsburg 
every  one  is  so  occupied  with  business,  that  the 
time  bestowed  in  attentions  to  a  stranger  is  a 
sacrifice  of  some  importance.     I  have  since  been 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  91 

much  vexed  to  find,  in  looking  over  my  papers 
here,  that  a  letter  of  introduction,  from  a  most 
flattering  source,  to  the  U.  S.  officer  now  com- 
manding at  Pittsburg,  escaped  me  entirely.  I  was 
chagrined  the  more,  inasmuch  as  I  should  have  liked 
both  to  visit  the  arsenal,  and  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  valued  officer  who  has  charge  of  it. 
I  had  not,  however,  this  reflection  to  annoy  me 
as,  wrapped  up  warmly,  I  rode  along,  watching 
the  cheerful  dawn,  streaking  the  east  with  pen- 
cillings  of  light,  and  dappling  with  ruddy  rays  the 
broad  bosom  of  the  Ohio.  As  the  morning  gradu- 
ally broke,  I  discovered  that  the  banks  of  the  river 
presented  a  different  appearance  from  what  thev 
did  when  I  sailed  along  them  ten  days  before. 
The  November  winds  had  been  at  work  in  the 
woods.  The  gorgeous  panoply  of  autumn  no 
longer  hung  on  the  forest.  The  trees  stood  bare 
in  the  growing  sunlight,  and  the  thick-strewn 
leaves  rustled  to  the  tread  of  the  gray  squirrel 
that  leaped  from  the  naked  boughs,  by  the  road- 
side. 

We  stopped  to  breakfast  at  a  low  log-built 
shantee,  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  river,  and 
being  asked  into  a  narrow  chamber,  half-parlour, 
half-kitchen,  I  had  for  the  first  time  an  opportunity, 
as  we  collected  around  the  breakfast  table,  to  sur- 


92  A    WINTER     IN     THE    WEST. 

vey  my  fellow-passengers.  They  were  chiefly 
plain  people,  small  farmers  and  graziers,  returning 
perhaps  from  market,  where  they  had  been  to  part 
with  their  produce.  Their  manner,  like  most  of 
our  countrymen  of  the  same  class,  was  grave  and 
decorous  at  table,  to  a  degree  approaching  to 
solemnity,  though  they  ate  with  the  rapidity  char- 
acteristic of  Americans  at  their  meals.  The  cere- 
mony of  the  board  commenced  by  the  oldest  man 
in  the  company  taking  a  beef-steak  before  him, 
and  cutting  it  into  small  pieces  with  his  own  knife 
and  fork.  He  then  passed  the  dish  around  to  each, 
and  finally,  when  all  were  served,  helped  himself. 
The  bread  was  in  the  same  way  circulated  by  the 
youngest  of  the  company,  and  then,  each  having  as 
fair  a  start  as  his  neighbour,  we  all  fell  to  work 
with  a  lustihood  that  would  have  done  beef- 
eating  Queen  Bess  good  to  witness.  The  ap- 
petites of  those  present  were  generally  sharpened 
by  the  morning's  ride  ;  and,  maugre  the  huge  piles 
of  buckwheat-cakes  that  smoked  along  the  board 
flanked  each  by  a  cold  apple-pie,  the  beef-steak 
was  decidedly  the  favourite  dish ;  and  was  meted 
out  again  and  again,  by  the  same  knife  and  fork 
that  played  a  private  part  the  whiles  for  the  stout 
veoman  who  thus  plied  them  for  the  public  good. 
Your  bandbox-bred   elegant,  who    was  ignorant 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  <J^ 

that  the  Spaniards  and  the  Turks,  the  two  most 
polite  peoples  in  the  world,  thrust  their  fingers  into 
the  reeking  bowl  of  olla  podrida,  or  the  smoking 
dish  of  pilau — while,  like  our  sturdy  Pennsylvanian, 
they  always  help  their  fellow-travellers  of  the  car- 
avanserai, or  posada,  before  attending  to  themselves 
— might  have  turned  up  his  nose  in  a  transport  of 
Trollopism  at  such  refinement.  The  charge  of 
vulgarity,  however,  would  rest  only  with  him 
who,  mistaking  the  conventional  rules  of  society 
for  the  essential  principles  of  politeness,  should 
measure  the  manners  of  strangers  by  the  standard 
of  his  own  narrow  circle.  There  was  but  one  of 
my  fellow-passengers  I  observed,  who  ate  with  his 
fork.  He  was  better  dressed,  and  sat  somewhat 
apart  from  the  rest,  interchanging  with  them  none  of 
the  homely  but  hearty  civilities  which  they  proffered 
to  each  other.  I  set  him  down  as  some  Eastern 
shop-keeper,  who,  though  he  might  have  been 
envied  by  a  Chinese  for  the  chop-stick  dexterity 
with  which  he  managed  to  pitch  the  morsels  of 
food  into  his  mouth  with  a  two-pronged  fork,  might 
better  have  passed  the  time  spent  in  acquiring  his 
sleight-of-hand  in  gaining  real  good-breeding,  from 
those  whom  he  evidently  set  down  in  his  own  mind 
as  far  beneath  him. 

Pursuing  our  journey,  we  stopped  soon  after  to 


94  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

change  horses  at  Economy.  I  was  much  disap- 
pointed in  not  having  even  five  minutes  to  look 
through  this  celebrated  village,  where  the  German 
Rapp  has  so  successfully  raised  a  community,  who 
labour  in  common,  and  own  all  their  property  only 
as  trust  members  of  a  corporation.  I  saw  hardly 
as  much  of  the  town,  thus  passing  its  suburbs  in- 
land, as  when  sailing  by  the  front  on  the  Ohio.  It 
struek  me  as  remarkably  neat,  however ;  and  it 
being  Sunday,  a  perfect  silence  seemed  to  reign 
over  the  village.  Rapp,  I  believe,  unlike  most  of 
his  co-community-mongers,  retains  religion,  not 
only  as  incident  to,  but  an  essential  feature  of,  his 
system.  Had  it  been  otherwise,  the  attempt  to 
form  such  an  establishment  could  hardly  have  suc- 
ceeded as  it  has.  Religion  I  believe  to  be  an  in- 
stinct of  the  human  mind — a  natural  impulse,  which 
at  some  time  determines  the  thoughts  of  every 
heart  heavenward.  It  is  a  feeling  which  as  palpa- 
bly prompts  us  to  seek  a  God  and  to  worship  him, 
as  does  the  instinct  of  a  bird  suggest  the  season  of 
building  her  nest  and  the  materials  for  its  construc- 
tion. The  form  of  her  frail  fabric  varies  indeed 
with  the  climate  in  which  it  is  built,  and  the  char- 
acter of  the  winged  artificer:  but  the  haughty 
temples  of  heathenism,  the  sumptuous  mosques  of 
the  Mussulman,  and  the  Christian's  humbler  house 


A     WINTER     IN     THE    WEST.  95 

of  worship  may  each  find  a  semblance  on  the 
towering  cliffs  or  tall  tree-top,  where  birds  of  prey 
alone  will  build, — in  the  imbowered  copse,  where 
the  luxurious  dove  delights  to  brood, — or  mid  the 
lowly  rushes,  where  the  lapwing's  fragile  nest  is 
made.  There  is,  indeed,  a  stolid  race  of  birds  who 
deposite  their  eggs  upon  the  barren  shore,  leaving 
the  sun  to  vivify  or  the  sea  to  scatter  their  con- 
tents  as  chance  may  determine.  But  stupid  as 
their  offspring  must  he  be  who,  in  constructing  an 
aviary,  made  no  provision  for  the  interesting  wants 
of  the  rest  of  the  species,  because  this  particular 
genus  is  so  coarsely  constituted.  Let  us  thank 
Heaven,  when  thinking  of  the  privileges  of  which 
the  intrusive  bigotry  of  foreign  infidels  at  times 
would  strip  us,  that  in  our  free  forests,  there 
are  fields,  hills,  and  groves  where  religion,  un- 
shackled as  a  new-fledged  bird,  may  build  her 
altars  how  and  where  she  pleases. 

Our  route  continuing  along  the  river,  we  soon 
passed  a  fine  elevated  field  on  the  bank  where 
General  Wayne — or  Mad  Antony,  as  he  was  more 
iamiliarly  called — encamped  with  his  army  that 
encountered  the  Indians  so  successfully  near  the 
Miami  of  the  Lakes. 

The  stone  fireplaces  of  the  soldiery,  now  over- 
grown with  turf,  were,  with  a  few  other  scattered 


06  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

marks  of  the  encampment,  discernible  upon  the 
ground  ;  and  they  suggested  to  one  of  the  passen- 
gers the  well-known  anecdote  of  the  general  having 
one  of  his  men  tried  and  shot  for  desertion,  because 
he  had,  without  permission  from  his  officer,  accom- 
panied an  only  brother,  his  visiter  at  the  camp,  a 
few  miles  on  his  return  home.  The  example  was 
a  terrible  one,  but  the  condition  of  Wayne's  army, 
from  which  the  men  were  daily  dropping  off, 
strongly  required  it ;  and  I  confess  that  in  mili- 
tary affairs  I  respect  the  firmness  equal  to  such  an 
occasion  too  much  to  merge  my  admiration  of  the 
unblenching  disciplinarian  in  sympathy  for  the  un- 
fortunate sufferer. 

We  reached  the  thriving  town  of  Beaver  about 
noon,  and  crossing  the  creek  of  the  same  name  by 
a  high  wooden  bridge,  struck  inland,  and  soon  lost 
sight  of  the  beautiful  Ohio  in  the  broken  country 
that  here  approaches  its  banks.  A  cold  shower 
drove  me  for  protection  inside  the  stage,  and  there, 
wrapping  myself  up  as  comfortably  as  I  could,  I 
*  passed  the  night.  The  passengers  had  gradually 
dropped  off  along  the  road,  leaving  only  a  solitary 
country  merchant  and  myself.  We  beguiled  the 
time  for  a  while  in  conversation,  and  then,  as  mid- 
night came  on,  and  he  grew  drowsy,  I  resigned 
myself  to  the  same  influence  that  had  begun  to  send 


A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  97 

sounds  anything  but  musical  from  his  "  innocent 
nose."  Awaking  with  the  sun,  I  found  that  we 
were  in  the  midst  of  new  clearings,  the  road  lead- 
ing through  a  level  country  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  and  having  its  sides  faced  beyond  the  fields 
with  trees,  which,  with  tall  stems  and  interlacing 
summits,  stood  like  giants  locking  arms  along  the 
highway.  I  must  now  be  in  Ohio,  thought  I ;  and  I 
was  right.  The  effect  of  this  magnificent  vegetation 
was  striking  even  at  this  season  ;  but  after  riding 
for  half  a  day  along  such  a  wood,  with  not  a  valley 
to  break  the  view,  nor  a  hill  to  bound  it,  it  could 
not  but  be  monotonous.  We  passed  two  lakes  in 
the  course  of  our  ride,  approaching  one  of  them 
near  enough  to  see  that  it  was  a  clear  sheet  of 
water,  with  a  pretty  yellow  sand-beach.  But, 
though  shut  up  by  woods,  it  wanted  entirely  the 
wild  yet  gentle  picturesqueness  of  the  lakes  I  have 
seen  among  and  near  the  Highlands  of  the  Hudson  ; 
much  less  could  it  boast  of  the  savage  grandeur  of 
those  which  form  the  sources  of  that  princely  river. 
The  most  interesting  objects  on  this  route  are 
decidedly  the  growing  towns  and  hamlets  which 
abound  along  the  road.  Some  of  them  have  been 
manufactured  only  this  season ;  and  it  is  really 
surprising  to  see  rude  log  huts  of  two  years' 
date  standing  side   by  side  with  tasteful  edifices 

VOL.  I. — I 


98  A    WINTER    IN     THE    WEST. 

of  yesterday,  like  the  old  and  new  branches  of 
one  flourishing  tree  ;  brick  churches  and  hotels, 
with  handsome  porticoes,  surrounded  by  the 
stumps  of  recently-felled  forests.  In  one  village, 
called  Hudson,  particularly, — where,  by-the-way, 
much  good  taste  is  exhibited  in  the  private  houses, 
— the  progress  of  improvement  is  said  to  be 
as  perceptible  as  the  rise  of  the  tide  at  the  sea- 
board. I  could  not,  however,  discover  a  palpable 
growth  in  the  place  from  the  time  we  sat  down  to 
dinner  till  hurried  away  from  table  by  the  call  of 
the  stage-driver. 

We  reached  Cleaveland  during  a  heavy  shower 
long  after  nightfall.  The  roar  of  the  surf  reminded 
me  of  Rockaway ;  and  the  first  view  of  Lake  Erie, 
the  next  morning,  was  really  grateful  to  my  eyes. 
I  felt,  while  walking  along  the  high  esplanade  of 
turf  which  here  forms  its  banks,  and  upon  which 
the  town  is  built,  like  one  who  has  just  come  out 
of  a  pent-up  chamber  into  the  full  and  free  air  of 
heaven.  The  effect  of  coming  on  such  a  wide 
expanse  of  water  when  just  emerging  from  the 
forest  is  much  greater  than  when,  after  long  riding 
through  an  open  country,  you  view  the  ocean 
stretched  beyond  its  shining  beach. 

Cleaveland  is  very  prettily  situated  upon  the 
lake.    The  Cayuhoga  makes  a  bend  around  a  high 


A      WINTER     IN     THE    WEST.  99 

bluff  as  it  passes  into  the  inland  sea  which  receives 
its  waters,  and  on  the  level  peninsula  thus  formed 
is  built  the  town.  The  harbour,  naturally  an  indif- 
ferent one,  has  been  much  improved  by  running 
out  a  pier  from  either  side  of  the  river,  where  it 
debouches  into  Lake  Erie ;  and  there  being  now 
few  better  ports  on  this  side  of  the  lake,  Cleaveland 
must  become  one  of  the  most  important  places  on 
its  waters.  The  adjacent  region  is,  I  believe,  not 
remarkably  well  suited  to  agricultural  purposes ; 
but  there  is  an  immense  tract  of  the  most  fertile 
country  inland,  which  looks  to  Cleaveland  for  the 
chief  outlet  of  its  products.  This  will  account  for 
the  rapid  rise  of  property  here,  which  is  almost  in- 
credible ;  building-lots  in  some  places  command- 
ing now  as  many  thousands  as  they  did  hundreds 
of  dollars  five  years  since.  The  town,  which  can 
already  boast  of  a  public  library,  a  fine  church, 
two  capital  taverns,  and  many  handsome  private 
dwellings,  is  laid  out  with  broad  streets  and  a 
spacious  square  in  the  centre.  The  business  part 
is  as  yet  beneath  the  bluff,  where  a  single  winding 
street  runs  along  the  bank  of  the  river  towards  the 
lake  ;  but  the  main  street  above  is  already  the 
scene  of  much  bustle,  and  bears  about  the  same 
relation  to  that  below  as  Broadway  does  to  South- 
street  in  your  city. 


100  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

I  have  been  happy  here  to  meet  with  some  old 
school-fellows  settled  in  the  place — where,  indeed, 
among  our  wandering  people  can  one  tread  with- 
out finding  an  acquaintance? — and  this  morning  I 
was  agreeably  surprised  by  finding  an  English 
groom  waiting  at  the  door  for  me  with  a  fine  saddle- 
horse,  and  mentioning  that  my  friend  its  owner 
would  soon  join  me  with  another.  We  first  rode 
out  through  a  clearing,  back  of  the  village,  and 
enjoyed  a  very  pretty  prospect  of  the  Cayuhoga 
winding  through  a  piece  of  rich  meadow-land 
below  us,  and  affording,  as  the  high  grounds  recede 
at  its  entrance  into  the  lake,  a  striking  view  of 
Erie  in  the  distance.  Returning  upon  our  tracks, 
we  passed  the  village  on  the  east,  and  then  rode 
westwardly  along  the  shore  of  the  lake.  The 
banks,  which  are  high  and  covered  with  sod  on  the 
top,  are  here  composed  of  clay  and  gravel :  on  the 
surface  they  appear  perfectly  firm,  but  for  the 
distance  of  nearly  a  mile  along  shore  they  have 
sunk,  or  are  sinking,  to  the  breadth  of  about  300  feet, 
and  slipped  off  into  the  lake,  whose  waters  thus 
swallow  building-lots  worth  a  great  amount  of 
money.  The  cause  is  believed  to  lie  in  quicksands 
beneath ;  and  it  offers  a  singular  phenomenon  to 
stand  on  the  shore  below,  and  marking  the 
sunken  platforms  of  earth  behind,  see  where  half 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  101 

an  acre  of  clay  has  risen  through  the  sandy 
beach  in  front,  within  a  few  inches  of  the  surface* 
of  the  water. 

The  treacherous  attributes  of  the  shore  sug- 
gested to  my  companion,  who,  though  young,  has 
been  a  traveller  in  his  day,  an  incident  he  wit- 
nessed while  journeying  through  some  of  the  re- 
mote provinces  of  Mexico,  which  would  make  no 
feeble  subject  for  the  pencil  of  Weir  or  Inman. 
He  had  ridden  with  an  English  gentleman  for 
many  hours  through  an  unsettled  country,  where 
not  a  drop  of  water  was  to  be  obtained  for  their 
horses,  when,  coming  suddenly  upon  a  clear  stream, 
sparkling  over  its  bed  of  yellow  sand,  their  weary 
beasts  sprang  forward  simultaneously,  to  drink  from 
the  grateful  current.  A  break  in  the  bank  caused 
their  riders  to  rein  up  and  dismount,  retaining  at 
the  same  time  the  loosened  reins  in  their  hands, 
while  their  horses  stepped  down  to  the  margin  of 
the  brook.  The  American,  finding  that  the  deceitful 
bottom  yielded  as  soon  as  touched,  jerked  his  terri- 
fied beast  from  the  fatal  spot,  while  as  yet  his  fore- 
feet were  only  immersed  in  the  quicksand.  But 
the  horse  of  the  Englishman,  in  his  eagerness  to 
get  at  the  water,  made  but  one  step  to  destruction. 
He  sunk  floundering  to  his  shoulders  before  an 
effort  could  be  made  to  rescue  him  ;  and  then,  as  in 

12 


102  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

his  struggles  to  extricate  himself  from  the  ingulfing 
pool,  he  heaved  his  broad  chest  high  above  its  sur- 
face, and  the  sucking  sands  drew  his  quarters  in  a 
moment  beneath  them.  The  nostrils  of  the  suffering 
animal  dilated  with  the  fierce  death  encounter,  and 
giving  that  hideous  cry — 

"  The  cry  of  steeds  that  shriek  in  agony," 

he  tossed  his  head  frantically  above  his  greedy 
grave — his  mane  fluttered  for  a  moment  on  the 
shallow  water,  and  the  bed  of  the  stream  closed 
over  him  for  ever. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  103 


LETTER  X. 

Detroit,  Michigan,  November  25. 

I  had  just  left  the  reading-room  of  the  Franklin 
Hotel,  in  Cleaveland,  and  was  making  myself  at 
home  for  the  rest  of  the  evening,  in  my  own  neat 
chamber,  when   the   sound  of  a   steamboat-bell, 
about  nine  o'clock,  gave  note  that  one  of  these 
vessels,  which  at  this  stormy  season  cannot  navi- 
gate  the  lake  with  any  regularity,  had  touched  at 
Cleaveland  on  her  way  to  this  place.     No  time 
was  to  be  lost,  and  huddling  my  clothes,  &c.  into 
my  trunk  as  quickly  as  possible,  I  jumped  into  a 
vehicle,  waiting  at  the  tavern  door,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  was  upon  the  quay.     Here  I  witnessed  a 
scene  of  indescribable  confusion.     The  night  was 
dark  and  somewhat  gusty,  and  the  boat  and  the 
wharf  were  both  crowded  with  boxes,  bales,  and 
the  effects  of  emigrants,  who  were  screaming  to 
each  other  in  half  as  many  languages  as  were 
spoken  at  Babel.     Lanterns  were  flashing  to  and 
fro  along  the  docks,  and  hoarse  orders  and  counter- 


104  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

mands,  mingled  with  the  harsh  hissing  of  the  steam 
on  every  side.  At  length  we  pushed  from  the 
shore,  and  escaping  in  a  moment  from  the  head  of 
the  mole,  stood  fairly  out  into  the  lake,  while  the 
bright  beacon  of  the  Cleaveland  lighthouse  soon 
waned  in  the  distance,  and  was  at  last  lost  entirely. 
I  found  myself,  upon  looking  around,  on  board  of 
the  fine  steamboat  "  New- York,"  Captain  Fisher, 
to  whose  politeness  I  was  much  indebted  for  show- 
ing me  about  the  boat  before  turning  in  for  the 
night.  Taking  a  lantern  in  his  hand,  and  tucking 
my  arm  under  his,  he  groped  about  among  his 
motley  ship's  company  like  Diogenes  looking  for 
an  honest  man. 

Our  course  first  led  us  through  a  group  of  emi- 
grants collected  around  a  stove,  mid-ships,  where 
an  English  mother  nursing  her  infant,  a  child  lying 
asleep  upon  a  mastiff,  and  a  long-bearded  German 
smoking  his  meerchaum  on  the  top  of  a  pile  of 
candle-boxes,  were  the  only  complete  figures  I 
could  make  out  from  an  indefinite  number  of  heads, 
arms,  and  legs  lying  about  in  the  most  whimsical 
confusion.  Passing  farther  on,  we  came  to  two 
tolerable  cabins  on  either  side  of  the  boat  just  for- 
ward of  the  wheels,  both  pretty  well  filled  with 
emigrants,  who  were  here  more  comfortably  be- 
stowed.    We  next  passed  the  forward  bar-room 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  105 

(there  being  another  abaft  for  cabin-passengers), 
and  finally  came  to  the  bow,  of  which  a  horse  and 
several  dogs  had  already  been  the  occupants  for 
so  many  days, — the  New- York  having  been  twice 
driven  into  port  and  delayed  by  stress  of  weather, 
— that  it  might  have  been  mistaken  for  either  stable 
or  kennel.  A  noble  English  blood-hound,  the  second 
dog  only  of  that  rare  breed  that  I  have  ever  seen, 
here  attracted  my  attention,  and  delayed  me  until  I 
made  his  acquaintance  ;  which  was  but  a  moment, 
however,  for  every  dog  of  a  generous  strain  can 
tell  instinctively  when  a  friend  of  his  kind  ap- 
proaches him. 

Among  others  of  the  canine  crew,  too,  there 
was  a  fine  spaniel,  whose  deplorable  fate,  subse- 
quently, I  may  as  well  mention  here  as  else- 
where. The  master  of  poor  Dash,  it  seems,  went 
ashore  during  the  night  at  Huron,  where  the  boat 
put  in  to  land  way-passengers  ;  and  the  animal, 
springing  eagerly  along  a  plank  at  his  call,  was 
kicked  from  his  narrow  foothold,  by  some  brute  of 
a  fellow,  into  the  lake.  The  night  was  dark,  and 
the  shadow  of  the  high  wharf  shut  out  the  few 
lights  on  shore  from  the  view  of  the  poor  animal, 
while  those  on  board  of  the  boat  led  him  awav  from 
the  land.     He  swam  after  us,  yelling  most  pite- 


106  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

ously,  until  his  suffocating  cries  were  lost  in  the 
freshening  sea,  which  probably  the  next  morning 
tossed  him  a  carrion  on  the  shore.  Had  I  wit- 
nessed the  act  of  throwing  him  overboard,  I  could 
scarcely  have  restrained  myself  from  pitching  the 
dastardly  perpetrator  of  the  cruelty  after  the  victim 
of  his  brutality:  for  if  there  be  one  trait  in  men 
which  awakens  in  me  indignation  amounting 
almost  to  loathing  of  my  kind,  it  is  to  see  human 
things  treating  those  parts  of  the  animal  creation 
beneath  them  as  if  this  earth  was  meant  for  none 
of  God's  creatures  but  man. 

But  to  return  to  our  travels  through  this  float- 
ing castle :  We  next  ascended  a  steep  stairway 
to  the  upper  deck  of  all,  and  I  here  spent  some 
moments  rather  amusingly  in  surveying  the  furni- 
ture of  the  emigrants  with  which  it  was  crowded. 
They  differed  according  to  the  origin  of  their 
owner.  The  effects  of  the  Yankee  were  gene- 
rally limited  to  a  Dearborn  wagon,  a  feather- 
bed, a  saddle  and  bridle,  and  some  knickknack  in 
the  way  of  a  machine  for  shelling  corn,  hatchelling 
flax,  or,  for  aught  I  know,  manufacturing  wooden 
nutmegs  for  family  use.  Those  of  the  Englishman 
are  far  more  numerous ;  for  John  Bull,  when  he 
wanders  from  home,  would  not  only,  like  the  roving 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  107 

Trojan,  carry  his  household  gods  with  him  into 
strange  lands,  but  even  the  fast-anchored  isle  itself, 
could  he  but  cut  it  from  its  moorings.  Whenever, 
therefore,  you  see  an  antique-fashioned  looking- 
glass,  a  decrepit  bureau,  and  some  tenderly-pre- 
served old  china,  you  will  probably,  upon  looking 
further,  have  the  whole  house-keeping  array  of  an 
honest  Briton  exposed  to  your  view. 

But  still  further  do  the  Swiss  and  Germans  carry 
their  love  of  family  relics.  Mark  that  quaint-looking 
wagon  which  lumbers  up  a  dozen  square  feet  of  the 
deck.  You  may  see  a  portrait  of  it  among  the  illu- 
minated letters  of  a  vellum-bound  edition  of  Virgil's 
Bucolics.  It  was  taken  from  an  Helvetian  ancestor 
that  transported  Csesar's  baggage  into  winter-quar- 
ters. It  might  be  worth  something  in  a  museum,  but 
it  has  cost  five  times  its  value  in  freight  to  transport 
it  over  the  Atlantic.  What  an  indignity  it  is  to 
overwhelm  the  triumphal  chariot  with  the  beds  and 
ploughs,  shovels,  saddles,  and  sideboards,  chairs, 
clocks,  and  carpets  that  fill  its  interior,  and  to  hang 
those  rusty  pots  and  kettles,  bakepans,  fryingpans, 
and  saucepans,  iron  candlesticks,  old  horse-shoes, 
and  broken  tobacco-pipes,  like  trophies  of  conquest 
over  Time,  along  its  racked  and  wheezing  sides. 
That  short  man  yonder,  with  square  shoulders  and 


108  A     WINTER    IN    THE     WEST. 

a  crooked  pipe  in  his  mouth,  is  the  owner ;  he, 
with  the  woollen  cap,  that  is  just  raising  his  blue 
cotton  frock  to  thrust  his  hand  into  the  fob  of  his 
sherrivalleys.  That  man  had  probably  not  the 
slightest  idea  of  the  kind  of  country  he  was  coming 
to.  His  eyes  are  but  now  just  opening  to  his  new 
condition ;  nor  will  he  sacrifice  a  particle  of  his 
useless  and  expensive  trumpery  until  they  are 
completely  open.  That  man  has  not  yet  a  thought 
in  common  with  the  people  of  his  new  abode  around 
him.  He  looks,  indeed,  as  if  he  came  from  an- 
other planet.  Visit  him  on  his  thriving  farm  ten 
years  hence,  and,  except  in  the  single  point  of  lan- 
guage, you  will  find  him  (unless  he  has  settled 
among  a  nest  of  his  countrymen)  at  home  among 
his  neighbours,  and  happily  conforming  to  their 
usages ;  while  that  clean-looking  Englishman  next 
to  him  will  still  be  a  stranger  in  the  land. 

I  subsequently  looked  into  the  different  cabins  and 
compartments  of  the  boat  not  yet  visited,  and  had 
reason  to  be  gratified  with  the  appearance  of  all ; 
though  the  steamboat  Michigan,  which  I  have  since 
visited  at  the  docks  here,  puts  me  completely  out 
of  conceit  of  every  part  of  the  New- York,  except 
her  captain.  The  Michigan,  machinery  and  all, 
was  built  at  Detroit ;  and  without  entering  into  a 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  109 

"minute  description  of  it,  I  may  say,  that  fine  as 
our  Atlantic  boats  are,  I  do  not  recollect  any  on 
the  Atlantic  waters,  for  strength  and  beauty  united, 
equal    to    this.      A   great    mistake,   however,   I 
think,  exists  here  in  building  the  boats  for  these 
waters  with  cabins  on  deck,  like  the  river  boats. 
In  consequence  of  such  a  large  part  of  the  hull 
being  above  water,  they  are  rendered   dangerous 
during  the  tremendous  gales  which  sweep  Lake 
Erie,  and  are  often  compelled  to  make  a  port  of 
safety  several  times  during  a  passage.     The  Eng- 
lish   steamers    which    ply    between    Dover   and 
Calais  are  built  like  other  sea- vessels  ;  and  having 
their  machinery  below,  can  consequently  keep  on 
their  course  in  a  sea  where  one  of  ours  would  live 
but  a  few  minutes.     I  was  fortunate,  considering 
the  stormy  season  of  the  year,  in  having  a  tolerably 
smooth  passage  across  the  lake,  there  being  but  few 
persons  sea-sick  on  board  of  the  boat,  and  I  happily 
not  included  in  the  number.     But  it  must  be  very 
unpleasant,  during  a  heavy  blow,  to  be  tossed  on 
the  short  cobble  sea  which  the  light  fresh  water 
of  these   lakes   always   breaks   into   beneath   the 
wind. 

We  passed  a  number  of  islands   in  the  morning 
soon  after  breakfast ;  some  of  them  mere  rocks,  and 

VOL.  I. K 


110  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

others  several  miles  in  circumference.  On  one  of 
these,  of  a  few  acres  in  extent,  a  row-boat,  in 
which  a  man  undertook  to  transport  himself  and 
one  or  two  members  of  his  family  to  the  shore, 
was  wrecked  some  years  since.  The  father  and 
brother,  with  a  daughter  of  about  twelve  years, 
managed  to  subsist  upon  the  snakes  and  snails  they 
found  among  the  rocks,  until  a  passing  vessel  took 
them  off,  after  some  ten  days  of  suffering. 

It  was  during  a  shower,  shortly  after  noon, 
when  some  low  wooded  islands  on  the  American 
side  of  the  lake,  with  a  tall  flag-staff  peering  above 
the  haze  from  the  little  town  of  Amherstburg  on 
the  British  shore,  indicated  that  we  had  entered 
the  mouth  of  the  Detroit  River.  The  wind,  which 
was  now  beginning  to  rise  into  a  threatening  tem- 
pest, compelled  us  to  hug  the  Canadian  shore  so 
closely,  that  the  red-coated  sentinel  pacing  along 
the  barracks  above  Fort  Maiden  was  plainly  seen 
from  the  boat.  The  river  soon  after  narrows 
sufficiently  for  one  to  mark  with  ease  the  general 
appearance  of  its  banks,  and  the  different  settle- 
ments upon  their  course.  Their  appearance  must 
be  pretty  in  summer,  when  fields  and  woods  show 
to  the  most  advantage.  But  now,  though  slightly 
undulating,  with  a  sudden  rise  from  the  river  of 
some  fifty  or  sixty  feet,  the  adjacent  country  is  too 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  Ill 

low  to  be  strikingly  beautiful.  Those,  however,  who 
admire  the  Delaware  below  Trenton,  if  they  can 
dispense  with  the  handsome  seats  which  ornament 
its  not  very  clear  waters,  may  find  a  charm  in  the 
gentle  banks  and  transparent  tide  of  the  Detroit 
River. 

The  city  of  Detroit  itself  stands  upon  an  ele- 
vated piece  of  table-land,  extending  probably  for 
some  twenty  miles  back  from  the  river,  and  being 
perfectly  unbroken  for  at  least  two  miles  along  its 
margin.  Beneath  the  bluff — for  the  plain  is  so 
high  as  almost  to  deserve  the  name — is  a  narrow 
bustling  street  of  about  half  a  mile  in  length,  with 
the  wharves  just  beyond  it ;  and  fifty  yards  in- 
board runs  a  spacious  street  called  Jefferson  Ave- 
nue, parallel  with  the  lower  street  and  the  river ; 
the  chief  part  of  the  town  extends  for  a  mile  or 
two  along  the  latter.  The  dwelling-houses  are 
generally  of  wood,  but  there  are  a  great  many 
stores  now  building,  or  already  erected,  of  brick, 
with  stone  basements.  The  brick  is  generally  of 
an  indifferent  quality ;  but  the  stone,  which  is 
brought  from  Cleaveland,  Ohio,  is  a  remarkably  fine 
material  for  building  purposes.  It  is  a  kind  of 
yellow  freestone,  which  is  easily  worked  when 
first  taken  from  the  quarry,  and  hardens  subse- 
quently upon  exposure  to  the  air.     There  are  at 


112  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

• 

this  moment  many  four-story  stores  erecting,  as 
well  as  other  substantial  buildings,  which  speak  for 
the  flourishing  condition  of  the  place. 

The  want  of  mechanics  is  so  great,  how- 
ever, that  it  is  difficult  as  yet  to  carry  on  these 
operations  upon  the  scale  common  in  our  Atlantic 
cities,  although  the  demand  for  houses  in  Detroit, 
it  is  said,  would  fully  warrant  similar  outlays  of 
capital.  The  public  buildings  are  the  territorial 
council-house,  situated  upon  an  open  piece  of 
ground,  designated  on  an  engraved  plan  of  the  city 
as  "  The  Campus  Martius,"  a  court-house,  academy, 
and  two  banks.  There  are  also  five  churches,  a 
Catholic,  an  Episcopal,  a  Presbyterian,  Baptist,  and 
Methodist.  The  Catholic  congregation  is  the 
largest ;  their  stone  church,  after  remaining  seve- 
ral years  in  an  unfinished  state,  is  soon,  it  is  said, 
to  be  completed  with  funds  derived  from  Rome  ; 
it  will  make  an  imposing  appearance  when  fin- 
ished. The  population  of  Detroit  is,  1  believe, 
between  three  and  four  thousand — it  increases 
so  rapidly,  however,  that  it  is  difficult  to  form 
an  estimate.  The  historical  associations,  the 
safety,  and  commodiousness  of  the  harbour,  with 
its  extensive  inland  commercial  advantages,  must 
ever  constitute  this  one  of  the  most  interesting  and 
important  points  in    the    Union,  although  other 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  113 

causes  may  combine  to  make  newer  places  in  the 
territory  equally  as  flourishing  as  Detroit. 

The  appearance  of  the  place  is  any  thing  but 
what  you  would  expect  from  a  town  founded  in 
the  same  year  with  Philadelphia.  The  ancient 
houses,  which  formerly  stood  upon  streets  hardly 
ten  feet  wide,  were  all  swept  away  in  the  great 
fire  twenty  years  since,  and  the  new  white  dwell- 
ings, standing  upon  broad  avenues  of  twenty- 
five  yards,  make  the  town  look  like  a  place  of  yes- 
terday. 

I  am  surprised  to  find  but  few  military  remains 
in  a  frontier  post  so  frequently  fortified,  and  which 
has  witnessed  so  many  scenes  of  border  war.  A 
small  stone  arsenal,  with  a  tall  picket  fence  around 
it,  is  the  only  thing  of  the  kind  discoverable,  and 
yet  the  place  is  thought  by  military  men  to  have 
been  sufficiently  strong  during  the  last  war  to 
have  held  out,  if  properly  commanded,  against 
twice  the  force  which  the  brave  General  Brock 
brought  against  it.  The  lapse  of  twenty-two 
years  has  not  yet  cooled  the  indignation  of  the 
inhabitants  at  its  dastardly  surrender  by  Hull.  It 
is  necessary  to  see  the  ground  to  estimate  properly 
that  besotted  act,  at  which  his  officers  broke  their 
swords,  and  his  men  nearly  rose  in  open  mutiny ; 
while  even  the  women  of  the  fort  shut  the  gates, 

k  2 


114  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

and  declared   that   their   husbands   and    brothers 
should  not  abide  by  the  disgraceful  orders  of  their 
commander.     It  is  astounding  to  think  how  slight 
an  exertion  of  force  might  have  annihilated  the 
attacking    party.     They  landed  about  two  miles 
below  the  town,  and  advanced   in  solid  column 
along  a  straight  road,  which  runs  parallel  with  the 
river,  and  is  walled   inland  with  a  high   picket 
fence,  in  front  of  the  French  farm-houses  which 
line  the  way.     At  the  entrance  of  the  town,  and 
nearly  in    front   of  the  hotel  where  I  am    stay- 
ing, were   planted  two  pieces  of  cannon,  loaded 
with    grape    and   canister.      A   single   discharge 
must  have  swept  half  of  the   British  force  into 
eternity,  while  the  river  on  one  side,  and  the  high 
picket  on  the  other,  would  have  hedged  the  re- 
mainder in  upon  a  spot  where  the  destruction  of 
the  whole  would  have  been  inevitable.     The  artil- 
lerymen were  standing  with  lighted  portfires,  when 
the  order  to  retire  within  the  fort  caused  them  to 
fling  their  matches  to  the  ground,  and  leave  it  with 
disgust.     The  memory  of  General  Hull,  which, 
with  that   love    of  glorification    that    constitutes 
the  weakest  point  of  our  national  character,  was 
so  hallowed  in  the  Eastern  newspapers  when  he 
died,  a  few  years  since,  is  here  held  in  the  con- 
tempt that  was  the  due  of  a  man  who  was  sen- 


A     WINTER     IN     THE      WEST.  115 

tenced  to  be  shot  to  death  for  conduct  entailing  so 
much  disgrace  upon  the  nation. 

I  was  not  a  little  amused  while  talking  over 
these  events,  with  some  gentlemen  a  few  evenings 
since,  upon  the  very  scene  of  contention,  to  hear 
a  person,  whom  I  soon  discovered  to  be  an  Eng- 
lishman, sliding  into  the  conversation,  and  taking 
his  part  of  it  with  equal  animation  and  good  feel- 
ing ;  upholding,  however,  like  a  leal  and  true 
Briton,  the  acts  of  his  own  nation.  The  conver- 
sation was  very  frank  on  both  sides,  although, 
when  he  spoke  of  the  Kentuckians  flaying  the  body 
of  Tecumseh  after  the  battle  of  the  Thames,  I 
could  not  trust  myself  to  retaliate  by  mentioning 
Proctor's  massacre  at  Frenchtown  of  the  flower 
of  the  youth  of  Kentucky,  which,  as  you  know, 
prompted  this  ferocious  act  of  their  countrymen, 
in  relation  to  the  fierce  but  noble  savage.  The 
ball  of  conversation,  which  had  hitherto  been 
thrown  with  equal  temper  and  breeding  by  better 
and  abler  hands,  fell  into  mine,  just  as  "  the  deli- 
cate question  of  impressment"  was  suggested  by 
the  English  stranger ;  and  in  begging  him  to  dis- 
miss a  matter  upon  which  our  views  could  so  little 
harmonize,  I  could  not  help  adding  the  opinion  you 
have  often  heard  me  express,  though  of  course  in 


116  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

a  manner  that  conveyed  nothing  offensive,  that  my 
country  should  never  notice  the  existence  of  that 
national  difficulty  except  through  the  mouths  of 
our  cannon ;  that  is,  that  we  should  regard  and 
treat  impressment  like  piracy  or  kidnapping  on  the 
highway.  "  Kidnapping  !"  exclaimed  my  well- 
bred  antagonist,  smiling  jocosely  at  the  word,  and 
politely  waiving  the  further  discussion  of  the  sub- 
ject, "  why,  I  myself,  sir,  have  been  taken  up  for 
kidnapping  within  the  very  precincts  of  this  town." 
He  then  went  on  to  tell,  in  quite  dramatic  style,  a 
series  of  whimsical  adventures  which  he  met  with, 
when  on  a  surveying  party  on  the  Lakes,  just  after 
the  last  war.  ("Surveying  on  the  Lakes  twenty 
years  ago  !"  exclaimed  I  to  myself;  "  why,  who  can 
this  man  be  ?  I  have  already  travelled  with  him, 
since  tea,  over  all  Europe  and  a  great  part  of 
Asia,  not  to  mention  the  West  Indies  and  South 
America,  with  the  whole  coast  of  Africa.")  The 
lively  and  unaffected  relation  was  every  thing  to 
the  storv,  which  at  once  enlisted  the  attention  of 
all  present,  but  the  particulars  were  barely  these  : 
— The  stranger,  then  a  subaltern  in  the  British 
service,  was  sent  by  his  commanding  officer  to 
seize  some  deserters,  who  had  escaped  by  night 
from  the  schooner  in  which  the  surveying-party 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  117 

were  embarked,  and  which  was  anchored  in  the 
Detroit  River.  He  landed  on  the  American  shore, 
and  tracing  one  of  the  knaves  to  an  inn  hard- 
bv,  he  seized  him  near  the  door,  handcuffed  him, 
and  handed  him  to  his  men  to  take  off  to  their 
boat  in  waiting.  Then  entering  the  inn,  the  sight 
of  a  number  of  articles  stolen  bv   the  runaways 

v  V 

induced  the  young  officer  to  search  for  the  rest  of 
their  number.  Provoked  at  his  want  of  success,  he 
very  naturally  exclaimed,  while  passing  vainly  from 
room  to  room,  "  Well,  thank  Heaven,  I  have  one  of 
the  rascals  in  limbo."  A  stout-looking  fellow  pres- 
ent immediately  slid  out  of  the  apartment.  The 
young  Englishman,  tired  at  last  with  his  search  of  the 
premises,  determined  to  leave  the  house  to  look  fur- 
ther elsewhere.  His  foot  was  on  the  threshold  of  the 
door.  "  Stop  there,  you  mister,"  exclaimed  a  tall 
Yankee,  bringing  a  bayonet  to  a  charge  at  his 
breast,  H  you  don't  come  here  and  kidnap  our  citi- 
zens at  that  rate,  I  guess." 

"  Kidnap  your  citizens  !  Why,  my  good  fellow, 
that  was  a  rascally  deserter  that  I  apprehended." 

"Deserter  or  no  deserter,  we  don't  want  no  such 
doings  over  our  side ;  and  you  don't  budge  from 
here,  my  hearty,  except  to  go  before  Governor 
Cass." 

"  Governor  Cass  !     Why,  my  dear  sir,  I  have  a 


118  A     WINTER     IN     THE      WEST. 

letter  here  for  Governor  Cass,  and  am  anxious  to 
find  him  out  in  person." 

It  was  "  no  go,"  however,  as  the  sturdy  yeoman 
said,  and  he  and  his  comrades  at  once  led  our 
young  and  hasty  adventurer  to  the  residence  of 
the  governor.     Detroit  was  then  a  military  post  of 
the  first  distinction.     The  town  was  crowded  with 
officers  and  their  families,  and  on  that  very  day 
there  was  a  levee,  at  which  three  general  officers 
with  their  respective  suites  received  company  at 
the  governor's.     The  culprit  was  politely  received 
by  the  governor,  and  being  soon  drawn  within  a 
group  of  officers,  they  all   heartily  sympathized 
with  him,  and  agreed   that  they  might,  without 
thinking,  have  acted  similarly  in  violating  a  foreign 
territory  when  sent  after  "  a  scoundrel  of  a  de- 
serter."    It  was,  in  short,  a  mere  matter  of  moon- 
shine, and  the  young  offender  need  give  himself  no 
concern  about  it,  but  fill  his  glass,  and  let  the  hour 
bring  forth  what  it  might.     To  make  a  long  story 
short,  however,  our  subaltern  was  soon  ordered  be- 
fore the  governor,  who  in  a  totally  altered  manner 
explained  the  grave  nature  of  his  offence  to  him,  and 
told   him   he    must   be  handed  over  to   the  civil 
authority ;  adding,  that  if  he  did  not  like  to  go  to 
jail,  he  might  take  up  his  residence  in  the  fort, 
under  the  care  of  Captain  O'Fallon,  whose  polite-* 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  119 

ness  the  English  gentleman  had  already  expe- 
rienced, and  under  whose  custody  he  was  glad  to 
place  himself.  His  stay  there  he  found  far  from 
disagreeable,  and  he  spoke  with  warmth  of  the 
courtesy  of  the  officers  in  walking  out  with  him 
every  day,  and  keeping  up  their  necessary  sur- 
veillance over  his  person  in  a  manner  that  made  it 
not  at  all  unpleasant.  The  grand  jury  soon  after 
found  a  bill  against  him  for  "  the  crime  of  kidnap- 
ping an  American  citizen,  name  unknown ;"  and  he 
was  held  to  bail  in  the  sum  of  $2000,  which  was 
at  once  forthcoming  from  a  gentleman  on  the 
Canadian  side.  The  result  of  the  trial  was  against 
the  prisoner,  but  a  higher  tribunal  subsequently 
quashed  the  proceedings  of  the  court,  and  set  the 
culprit  at  liberty. 

This  relation,  the  particulars  of  which  I  have 
since  found  are  familiar  to  the  older  residents  of 
Detroit,  seemed,  from  the  unaffected  yet  animated 
manner  in  which  it  was  made,  to  strike  every  one 
present ;  and,  as  you  may  imagine,  our  interest  in 
the  party  chiefly  concerned  was  not  a  little  height- 
ened by  our  discovering  the  next  morning,  that  the 
individual  who  had  made  himself  so  agreeable  the 

evening  before  was  Captain  V of  the  British 

Navy,  whose    enviable   reputation,  as  the  com- 
panion of  Captain  Owen  in   his  recent  arduous 


120  A     WINTER     IN     THE      WEST. 

voyage  of  discovery  along  the  coast  of  Africa, 
gives  one  the  privilege  of  mentioning  his  name  as 
that  of  a  public  man.  Captain  V has  just  set- 
tled on  a  farm  on  the  Canada  side,  but  so  near  to 
Detroit  that  his  society  will  be  an  acquisition  to  a 
neighbourhood  remarkable  for  its  agreeableness 
and  elegant  hospitality. 

I  have  made    several    excursions    to    different 
places    in    the    vicinity    of    Detroit.     The    plea- 
santest   ride,  perhaps,  is  one  along  the  river  on 
the  Canada   side ;  from  which  Detroit  appears  to 
great  advantage.     Every  thing  looks  dead,  how- 
ever, in  William  IV.'s  dominions,  after  coming  from 
the  bustling  American  town.     The  French  there 
insist  upon  holding  on  to  their  acres,  and  being  un- 
willing to  improve  their  property,  its  value  remains 
stationarv.     These  French  tenures  have  had  their 
effect,  too,  in  retarding  the  growth  of  Detroit,  and 
they  still  check  in  no  slight  degree  its  advances  in 
prosperity.     The  French  farms  are  laid  out  along 
the  river  on  both  sides,  with  a  front  of  only  two  or 
three  acres  on  its  bank,  while  thev  extend  back 
into  the  country  for  half  a  dozen  miles  ;  a  dispo- 
sition of  property  very  unfavourable  to  agriculture, 
and  only  adopted  originally  to  bring  the  colonists 
as  near  together  as  possible,  for  the  sake  of  mutual 
protection   against  the    Indians.     Many  of  these 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  121 

farms  now  cross  the  main  street  of  Detroit  at  right 
angles  at  the  upper  end  of  the  town,  and,  of  course, 
offer  on  either  side  a  dozen  building  lots  of  great 
value.     The  original  owners,  however,  persist  in 
occupying  them  with  their  frail  wooden  tenements 
and  almost  valueless  improvements,  notwithstand- 
ing large   sums   are   continually   offered   for  the 
merest  slice  in  the  world  off  the  end  of  their  Ions:- 
tailed  patrimonies.     They  are  a  singular  race  of 
beings  altogether.     Mild  and  amiable,  with  all  that 
politeness  of  manner  which   distinguishes  every 
class  of  the  courteous  nation  from  which  they  de- 
rived their  origin — they  are  still  said  to  be  pro- 
foundly ignorant.     They  call  Detroit  "  the  Fort" 
to  this  day,  and  yet  few  of  them  know  any  thing 
of  the  country  whose  soldiers  first  held  it.     They 
are  good  gardeners,  but  very  indifferent  farmers  ; 
and  their  highest  ambition  is  to  turn  out  the  fastest 
trotting  pony  when  the  carriole  races  commence 
on  the  ice  at  mid-winter.     Some  of  them  will  own 
a  hundred  of  these  ponies,  which,  in  defiance  of 
snow  and  sun,  run  in  the  woods  from  one  end  of 
the  year  to  the  other.     The  fastest  of  the  herd, 
which  is  generally  a  three-minute  horse,  the  owner 
will  keep  for  himself,  or,  if  he  parts  with  him,  asks 
the  purchaser  two  or  three  hundred  dollars  for  the 
animal,  while  from  the  rest,  for  twenty-five    01 

VOL.  I. — L 


122  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

thirty,  he  may  select  at  pleasure.  They  are  very 
easy-gaited  animals,  carrying  astonishing  weights 
with  ease  ;  but  their  shoulders  are  so  low  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  keep  an  ordinary  saddle  on  their  backs  with 
any  comfort.  But  though  generally  rough  mis- 
shapen looking  creatures,  some  are  very  elegantly 
formed,  and  remind  me  often — while  neither  re- 
sembling the  Arabian  nor  the  English  horse — of 
some  French  drawings  I  have  seen  of  the  spirited 
steeds  of  the  Balkan,  or  the  rushing  coursers  of 
the  Ukraine.  I  am  informed  that  they  are  known 
to  perform  journeys  under  the  saddle  of  sixty 
miles  a  day  for  ten  days  in  succession,  without 
being  at  all  injured  by  it.  They  are  thought  to 
have  a  different  origin  from  the  Canadian  horse,  to 
which  the  best  of  them  bears  no  particular  resem- 
blance except  in  size. 

With  judicious  crossing,  a  most  valuable  race  of 
horses  might  be  produced  from  this  hardy  stock, 
which,  for  their  vigour  and  endurance,  I  can  only 
compare  to  the  tough  wild  thorn  of  the  country ; 
an  unpromising  shrub,  which,  when  grafted  upon, 
produces  the  most  flourishing  fruit-trees  I  have 
ever  seen. 

The  drive  to  Lake  St.  Clair  must  be  very  plea- 
sant in  summer,  judging  from  what  I  saw  of  it 
during  a  raw  snowy  day.    The  banks  of  this  river 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  123 

are  indeed  rather  low  for  beauty,  and  the  lake 
itself,  when  you  arrive  at  it,  is  only  a  large  black 
sheet  of  clear  water ;  but  the  thick-set  orchards  of 
the  French  farmers,  coming  quite  down  to  the 
shore  of  the  river,  are  pleasing  objects  in  them- 
selves, and  with  the  green  islands  in  the  strait,  the 
decaying  windmills  so  frequently  recurring  along 
its  shores,  and  the  groups  of  shaggy  ponies 
almost  invariably  grouped  around  their  base, 
would  enable  a  painter  to  eke  out  a  very  pretty 
landscape. 

About  ten  miles  from  Detroit,  a  United  States 
arsenal  is  now  erecting,  under  the  superintendence 
of  Lieutenant  Howard,  of  the  army  ;  for  an  intro- 
duction to  whom  I  was  indebted  to  two  young 
officers,  who  rode  out  with  me  to  visit  the  place. 
The  day  wTas  cold  and  cloudy,  like  most  it  has 
been  my  lot  to  describe  to  you  of  late  ;  but  my 
companions  were  intelligent  and  agreeable,  my 
horse  free  and  sufficiently  fast,  and  my  reception 
at  the  end  so  satisfactory,  that  I  still  think  of  my 
ride  along  the  lazy  banks  of  the  bilious-looking 
River  Rouge  with  pleasure.  The  arsenal,  though 
of  brick,  is  by  far  the  best  specimen  of  masonry  I 
have  yet  seen  here.  It  is  to  be  regretted,  how- 
ever, that  for  such  a  national  work,  the  appropria- 
tion by  government  for  its  erection  had  not  been 


124  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

large  enough  to  have  permitted  the  beautiful 
Cleaveland  stone,  which  form  the  lintels  of  its 
doors  and  windows,  to  be  substituted  for  the  per- 
ishable-looking material  of  which  the  building  is 
now  constructed.  The  taste  of  Lieutenant  H., 
which  is  already  evinced  by  some  arrangements  in 
the  vicinity,  will  no  doubt  induce  him  to  preserve 
some  hoary  and  fantastic-looking  oaks,  which  fling 
their  gnarled  branches  within  a  few  yards  of  the 
walls,  and  which  even  now,  stripped  as  they  are 
of  their  foliage,  are  worth  a  whole  forest  of  com- 
mon ornamental  shrubbery.  The  trees  I  have 
generally  seen  around  our  military  posts,  look  all 
as  straight  and  martinet-like  as  if  planted  by  a 
drill-sergeant.  These  veteran  oaks  stand  upon  a 
sloping  bank,  and  as  they  are  too  crooked  ever  to 
catch  the  eye  of  the  utilitarian,  and  be  sawed 
up  into  boards,  they  may,  if  not  now  molested, 
wave  yet  for  a  century  above  these  ingenious 
idlers  who  delight  to — 

" under  the  shade  of  melancholy  boughs, 

Lose  and  neglect  the  creeping  hours  of  time." 

Too  much  praise  can  hardly  be  accorded  to  the 
activity  of  the  officer,  who,  in  five  months,  has 
reared  such  a  building,  and  created  the  village 
which  is  already  growing  up  around  it  in  the  midst 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  125 

,  of  an  unbroken  forest.  There  is  a  capital  inn, 
a  store,  and  two  or  three  dwellings  in  the  new 
town  of  "  Dearbornville,"  all  built  since  last  July. 
I  sat  down  to  dine  on  a  fine  haunch  of  venison, 

with  the  veteran  General  B and  his  young 

aid,  who  were  together  on  a  hunting  expedition  in 
the  vicinity.  Nothing  could  have  impressed  a 
stranger  more  favourably  with  military  breeding, 
than  the  bland,  paternal  manner  of  the  gentleman- 
like old  officer  to  his  four  juniors  present.  The 
deer  yet  abound  within  a  morning's  walk  of  De- 
troit ;  the  primitive  forest  standing  untouched 
within  a  few  hundred  yards  of  the  town,  imme- 
diately in  its  rear.  They  are  hunted  daily  at  this 
season,  and  no  slight  sensation  was  made  here  a 
day  or  two  since,  by  the  prolonged  absence  of  the 
general,  who  had  been  benighted  and  lost  his  way. 
upon  one  of  these  short  excursions.  The  town 
was  about  to  turn  out  en  masse,  when  the  reap- 
pearance of  the  hunter,  after  two  days'  absence, 
relieved  a  very  general  anxiety. 

The  tedious  length  of  this  letter  is  sufficient 
apology  for   the   abruptness  with  which  I  must 

break  off. 

l2 


L2£  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST, 


LETTER  XL 

Monroe,  Michigan,  Dec.  3,  1833. 

The  drive  from  Detroit  hither  is  dull  enough  at 
this  season  of  the  year.     The  road  leads  through 
almost  a  dead  level,  and  the  muddy  streams  creep 
over  the  fat  black  soil,  as  if  they  had  gormandized 
upon  its  rich  vegetation  till  grown  too  lazy  for 
locomotion.     Among   others,  the   Huron  River, 
from  which— seeing  that  it  rises  in  one  of  the 
brightest  and  most  beautiful  lakes  in  the  peninsula, 
better  things   might  be  expected,  waddles  on  to 
the  lake,  as  little  excited  by  the  flocks  of  ducks 
which  frolic  on  its  bosom,  as  an  alderman  after 
dinner  by  the  flies  that  disport  upon  his  jerkin. 
Occasionally,  indeed,  some  bright  little  rill  will 
ripple  across  the  road,  and  smirk  over  its  yellow 
pebbles  on  its  way  to  the  big  lake,  with  much  the 
same  air  that  the   mill-streams   of  Long  Island 
dance  over  the  level  ground  while  hurrying  to  the 
sea.     But  a  wet  prairie  soon  intervenes,  and  the 
innocent  rivulet,  like  a  child  that  is  snubbed,  be- 
comes at  once  silent  and  sulky.     But  though  some 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  127 

parts  of  Wayne  county  are  thus  unattractive,  I 
am  told  that  other  sections  contain  much  arable 
land  of  excellent  quality,  consisting  of  sand  loam 
and  some  clay  with  heavy  timber,  and  occasionally 
fine  bottoms  along  the  streams.  The  population 
is  about  eight  thousand. 

The  village  of  Monroe,  in  the  county  of  the 
same  name,  from  which  I  now  write,  is  situated  on 
the  banks  of  the  River  Raisin,  and  about  two 
miles  from  its  entrance  into  Lake  Erie.  It  was 
incorporated  two  years  since,  and  comprises  a  part 
of  the  old  site  of  Frenchtown,  celebrated,  as  you 
remember,  in  the  annals  of  the  last  war.  The 
place  is  said  to  be  regularly  laid  out ;  but  the  most 
business  part  of  it — and  it  is  the  fussiest  little  town 
in  the  world — looks  as  if  the  buildings  had  all  been 
tossed  from  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  left 
to  settle  just  where  they  might  fall  upon  this.  If 
the  place  continues  to  increase  as  rapidly,  how- 
ever, as  it  has  during  the  last  year — the  population 
having  doubled  in  that  time — the  inhabitants  can 
anbrd  to  burn  down  the  river  side  of  the  village, 
and  arrange  it  to  more  advantage.  There  are 
now  about  150  houses,  of  which  20  or  30  are 
stone ;  some  of  them  are  wholesale  establish- 
ments, and  make  a  very  handsome  display  of 
fancy  goods.     There  are  also  two  grist-mills  im- 


128  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

mediately  in  the  town,  a  woollen  factory,  an  iron 
foundry,  several  saw-mills,  a  chair  factory,  a  tan- 
nery, &c.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  the  supply 
of  water-power  affords  every  facility  for  the  use 
of  machinery,  the  demand  for  manual  labour  is 
very  great,  and  mechanics  of  every  kind  may 
here,  as  in  Detroit,  find  constant  employment. 
./  Indeed,  I  am  told,  that  the  demand  for  mechanics 
in  every  part  of  Michigan  is  excessive :  and  as 
for  labourers,  I  have  seen  them  repeatedly  adver- 
tised for,  by  written  notices  on  tavern  doors  and 
elsewhere.  The  emigrants  to  the  territory,  I  find, 
are  generally  people  of  a  very  respectable  class, 
who  have  both  the  disposition  and  the  means  to 
employ  the  services  of  others  around  them. 

The  "  Bank  of  the  River  Raisin"  is  established  at 
this  place,  with  a  capital  of  $100,000  ;  and  though 
in  its  infancy,  is  said  to  be  doing  a  very  flourishing 
business.  The  notes  are  among  the  handsomest 
specimens  of  bank-note  engraving  I  have  "seen. 
There  is  also  a  Land-Office  established  here,  at 
which  the  sales  of  public  lands  since  last  April 
amount  to  upwards  of  $22,000;  the  sales  at 
Detroit  and  White  Pigeon  together  a  little  exceed- 
ing this  sum.  The  government  price  of  land 
($100  for  80  acres)  being  the  same  in  every  part 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  129 

of  the  territory,  this  will  give  you  some  idea  of  the 
immigration  into  the  Peninsula. 

I  must  not  forget  to  mention  that  with  a  popula- 
tion of  only  1600  souls,  five  religious  denomina- 
tions are  represented  in  their  respective  clergymen 
at  Monroe;  and  that  three  of  these,the  Roman 
Catholic,  Episcopal,  and  Presbyterian,  have  each 
a  neat  church  of  their  own.  I  ought  to  add  that 
a  newspaper,  with  a  good  circulation,  is  printed 
here. 

The  advantageous  position  of  Monroe,  situated 
as  it  is  at  the  head  of  Lake  Erie,  induced  the 
government  to  make  an  appropriation  for  improv- 
ing the  harbour,  which,  except  that  of  Maumee,  is 
the  only  one  at  this  part  of  the  lake.  The 
lamented  Major  Maurice,  of  the  Engineer  Corps 
(who,  you  may  remember,  fell  down  and  instantly 
expired  in  the  act  of  shaking  hands  with  General 
Gratiot  at  Washington,  last  winter),  and  whom  the 
inhabitants  of  this  place  speak  of  with  the  tenderest 
remembrance — made  minute  surveys  of  the  harbour 
and  of  the  different  channels  of  the  river  ;  and  the 
bill  which  has  been  at  various  times  introducea 
into  Congress  for  their  improvement  was  base*; 
upon  his  reports.  A  bill  was  passed  at  the  last 
session  of  Congress  appropriating  $8,000  for  re- 
building the  pier  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  and 


130  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

also  appropriating  the  sum  of  $20,000  for  a  road 
from  La  Plaisance  bav,  through  which  the  Raisin 
debouches  into  Lake  Erie,  to  intersect  the  Chicago 
road,  which  traverses  the  whole  Peninsula  at  a 
point  about  40  miles  from  here  ;  an  improvement 
which  will  open  a  new  market  to  southern  and 
western  Michigan,  and  contribute  of  course  much 
to  the  prosperity  of  Monroe.  A  bill  wTas  also 
passed  by  both  houses  appropriating  $15,000  for  a 
canal  connecting  the  waters  of  Lake  Erie  and  the 
River  Raisin,  by  a  cut  across  the  bar  at  the  mouth 
of  the  latter.  The  money  has  not  been  expended, 
however,  in  consequence  of  an  oversight  in  the 
engrossing  clerk,  which,  from  his  omitting  this  im- 
portant item,  has  prevented  the  bill  as  yet  becoming 
a  law.  The  moneys  appropriated  for  the  pier  and 
road  have  already  been  mostly  expended,  and  those 
public  works  are  now  nearly  completed  under  the 
active  and  efTicient  superintendence  ofCapt.  Henry 
Smith,  of  the  Engineer  Corps.  When  all  these 
improvements  are  completed,  Monroe  must  come 
in  for  a  large  share  of  the  immense  trade  and  com- 
merce which  must  flow  through  the  three  outlets 
of  eastern  Michigan.  The  mouth  of  the  Maumee 
can  hardly  compete  with  it  on  account  of  the  ex- 
treme unhealthiness  of  that  swampy  region  ;  but  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  the  enterprising  inhabi- 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  131 

tants  of  this  thriving  little  place  are  somewhat  too 
vivacious  in  their  expectations,  when  they  think  of 
not  only  rivalling,  but  outstripping,  the  ancient  city 
of  the  straits  on  the  onward  road  to  prosperity. 
Detroit,  like  every  other  point  selected  by  the  French 
on  the  Western  waters  of  our  country,  is  as  com- 
manding a  position,  whether  for  war  or  trade,  as 
could  be  chosen. 

The  Monroeites  are,  however,  a  driving  people 
in  their  way.  They  are  now  building  a  steamboat 
of  the  largest  class,  which  will  cost  not  less  than 
$45,000,  to  ply  directly  between  here  and  Buffalo; 
and  this  morning  I  saw  launched  a  beautiful 
schooner,  for  the  lake  navigation.  It  was  the  first 
launch  that  had  ever  taken  place  at  Monroe,  and 
the  occasion  caused  a  general  turn  out  of  the  in- 
habitants, who  hurried  to  the  spot,  a  mile  or  two 
off,  upon  horses  of  every  variety  of  appearance. 
There  was  the  bull-necked  French  pony  and  his 
scraggy  looking  Indian  cousin,  the  sleek  spongy- 
looking  Ohio  horse,  and  the  clean-limbed  quickly- 

utheriflg  Kentuckian,  galloping  between  the  swift 
but  shuffling  Illinois  pacer,  and  the  high-actioned 
tight-looking  New- York  trotter.  Every  one  rode 
as  if  for  a  wager,  and  when  we  drew  our  reins 
the  talk  upon  horse  flesh  superseding  almost  the 
interest  of  the  schooner,  showed  that  the  Monroe- 
ites, like  Catiline  and  Purdy,  deserve  to  be  cele- 


132  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

brated  for  their  judgment  in  these  matters.  A 
very  good  and  full  band  of  Amateur  Musicians, 
composed  of  respectable  private  individuals  of  the 
village,  came  at  last  upon  the  ground,  and  changed 
the  subject  to  the  name  of  the  new  vessel,  which 
several  wished  to  alter  before  launching,  from  the 
hackneyed  one  of  Diana  to  the  more  characteristic 
sound  of  Tecumseh,  the  spot  being  so  celebrated  in 
the  memoirs  of  that  great  chief.  "  You  knew  Te- 
cumseh then,  sir  ?"  said  I  to  an  old  gentleman,  who, 
I  was  informed,  had  been  a  field  officer  during  the 
late  war,  and  engaged  in  several  battles.  "  I  did, 
sir,  and  he  was  as  thorough  a  gentleman  and  as  high- 
toned  an  officer  as  anv  in  the  British  service." 
The  chief,  you  know,  actually  held  his  commission 
as  a  general  officer  immediatelv  from  the  Kins:  of 
Britain.  "  What  do  you  then,  sir,  think  of  his  mas- 
sacre upon  this  spot,"  I  rejoined.  "  The  barbarity 
of  that  act,  sir,  was  only  in  accordance  with  Indian 
ideas  of  warfare.  The  disgrace  of  it  attaches  en- 
tirely tothe  English  officer  (Proctor)  who  permitted, 
perhaps  sanctioned,  the  atrocity."  The  old  officer's 
blood  seemed  to  kindle  anew  as  he  dwelt  upon  that 
horrible  slaughter  of  a  force  which  had  capitulated 
on  honourable  terms  with  a  full  reliance  on  the  foe 
for  protection.  I  asked  him  about  the  sick  and 
wounded,  who  were  burnt  up  in  the  hospital,  or 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  133 

shot  to  death  as  they  ran  shrieking  through  the 
flames.  "  I  saw  their  bones,"  he  replied,"  when  the 
ruins  were  still  recent.  I  came  on  with  the  corps  of 
Kentuckians  which  advanced  soon  after  into  this 
country,  and  subsequently  so  eagerly  avenged 
their  countrymen  at  the  battle  of  the  Thames.*  I 
walked  to  the  spot  where  the  wounded  met  their 
fate,  with  several  others.  Richard  M.  Johnson 
was  one  of  the  number.  We  looked  into  the  pit, 
and  could  see  the  charred  bones  and  dismembered 
limbs,  and  sometimes  half-burnt  bodies,  plainly 
below.  The  men  muttered  the  deepest  curses. 
Col.  J.  spoke  not  a  word,  but  the  tears  rained  from 
his  eyes  ;  and  turning  away,  he  exclaimed, '  There 
lies  the  best  blood  in  Kentucky,  poured  out  like 
water."'  I  have  given  as  nearly  as  I  can  the  very 
words  of  the  veteran  colonel  in  describing  this  sad 
spectacle.  Of  the  seven  hundred  young  men  mur- 
dered here,  the  most  were  students  at  law,  young 
physicians,  and  merchants,  and  the  sons  of  opulent 
farmers, — in  short,  the  very  flower  of  Kentucky.f 
The  event  threw  the  whole  State  into  mourning. 

*  See  note  C. 

t  Since  this  was  written,  I  have  met  with  a  Kentucky  gentleman 
in  Illinois,  who  had  lost  five  relations  in  the  massacre — a  father, 
two  brothers,  an  uncle,  and  a  cousin — the  youngest  was  not 
seventeen. 

VOL.  I. — M 


134  A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

Speaking  of  the  troops  who  were  concerned  in 
the  early  operations  of  these  regions,  I  have  heard 
a  number  of  interesting  accounts  from  different 
persons  of  the  formation   of  the   several   corps. 
One  of  these,  though  I  may  very  probably,  in  try- 
ing to  recall  the  particulars,  confound  them  with 
the  incidents  of  another,  I  will  venture  to  repeat. 
A  graduate  of  Williams  College,  Massachusetts, 
who  had  been  recently  admitted  to  the  bar,  was 
riding  through   the   State   of  Kentucky,  perhaps 
with  the  design  of  finding  some  favourable  point  at 
which  to  fix  his  abode  and  commence  the  practice 
of  his  profession,  when  he  was  accosted  near  a 
village  by  a  mounted  traveller,  who,  mentioning 
that  he  was  a  planter  of  the  country,  invited  the 
young  advocate,  with  all  the  freedom  of  western 
hospitality,  to  dine  at  his  house  the  following  day. 
The  invitation  was  accepted  ;  and  the  eastern  gen- 
tleman, arriving  at  the  mansion  of  the  unknown 
host,  found  a  large  party  collected,  the  majority  of 
whom  were  well  acquainted  with  each  other,  while 
many  were  strangers  like  himself,  and  invited  ap- 
parently in  the  same  manner.     The  dinner,  how- 
ever, was  got  through  with  sociably  enough ;  and 
by  the  time  the  glass  began  to  circulate  freely,  all 
felt  that  easy  confidence  in  the  fellowship  and  good 
feeling  of  each  other  which  is  the  soul  of  good  so- 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  135 

ciety.  The  host,  then  rising,  described  briefly  the 
state  of  the  north-western  frontier,  and  produced  a 
commission  from  his  pocket  to  raise  a  corps  and 
march  at  once  thither.  They  enlisted  to  a  man ; 
their  entertainer  provided  them  on  the  spot  with 
the  necessary  stores  and  munitions  ;  and  the  band 
of  volunteers  started  in  a  few  hours  on  their  march 
to  the  border. 

The  name  of  the  noble  host  was  not  mentioned, 
but  the  eastern  adventurer,  who  was  elected  a 
lieutenant  upon  the  spot,  and  soon  after  became  a 
captain,  was  said  to  have  been  better  known  since 
as  colonel,  general,  governor,  and  lastly, — Mr.  Sec- 
retary Cass. 

I  regret  now  that  I  did  not  inquire  into  and  note 
down  the  names  and  other  particulars  of  a  relation 
so  striking,  but  you  have  the  tale  as  it  was  told  in 
my  hearing,  minus  the  admirable  manner  of  the 
relation.  But  I  am  forgetting  the  Diana — that 
burst  of  music  tells  that  she  begins  to  move  on  her 
ways — calmly  now  she  slides  like  a  pair  of  Bro- 
qua's  slippers  through  a  quadrille ;  and  now,  as 
that  bottle  of  champaign  foams  over  her  bow,  her 
motion  increases  almost  to  the  velocity  of  a  gallope. 
What  a  sensation  does  she  make  among  the  waves, 
and  how  do  they  coquet  with  her  on  every  side  ! 
She  bobs  about  till  she  seems  as  unstable  as  them- 


136  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

selves.  But  now  the  sober  skipper,  like  a  good 
husband,  takes  possession  of  her  virgin  charms,  and 
placing  himself  at  once  at  the  helm,  the  unmeaning 
waters  cease  their  flirting,  and  sustain  her  above 
them  without  daring  to  attempt  to  influence  her 
course. 

The  ride  to  these  dock-yards  is  rather  pleasant ; 
but  I  have  seen  handsomer  rivers  than  the  Raisin. 
The  banks  for  several  miles  around  the  village 
have  been  almost  denuded  of  trees ;  and  the  lime- 
stone channel  lets  off  so  much  of  the  stream  through 
its  crevices,  that,  like  a  tankard  of  liquor  passed 
round,  according  to  custom,  at  a  western  inn,  it  is 
half  drunk  up  before  it  gets  to  its  real  owner,  the 
lake.  It  would  delight  an  eastern  farmer,  to  see 
the  magnificent  pear-trees  which,  tall  as  the  trees 
of  the  forest,  and  of  the  growth  of  a  century,  extend 
through  orchards  for  miles  along  the  stream. 
Here,  too,  are  apple-trees,  to  the  excellence  of 
whose  fruit  I  can  testify,  that  were  brought  by  the 
French  to  this  country  in  1731.  The  grape-vines, 
also,  from  which  the  river  takes  its  name,  constitute 
a  beautiful  feature  in  the  level  landscape,  as  they 
hang  in  rich  festoons  along  the  banks  of  the  stream, 
and  climb  wherever  it  is  wooded  to  the  tops  of 
the  loftiest  elms. 

There  is  now  an  application  and  great  interest 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  137 

making  to  incorporate  a  company  for  the  purpose 
of  improving  the  navigation  of  the  River  Raisin 
and  the  Saline  by  a  lock  and  dam  navigation, — an 
improvement  which  it  is  said  can  be  made  at  slight 
expense.  The  river,  flowing  gently  in  its  channel, 
with  banks  of  equal  elevation,  seems  ready  to  re- 
ceive and  bear  upon  its  bosom  the  rich  products  of 
the  country  on  its  borders.  By  constructing  a  tow- 
path,  the  expense  of  which  will  not  be  heavy,  an 
excellent  canal  can  be  easily  made. 

The  subject  of  canals  and  railroads  awakens  at 
this  moment  the  keenest  interest  in  Michigan ;  and, 
after  the  route  of  the  projected  grand  communica- 
tion between  Lakes  Erie  and  Michigan,  through 
the  peninsula,  shall  be  determined  upon  by  the 
general  government,  I  have  no  doubt  but  that  large 
and  advantageous  outlays  of  private  capital  upon 
similar  works  will  be  made  at  other  points.  Of 
the  plans  talked  of  as  best  worthy  the  attention  of 
government,  that  of  a  grand  railroad  from  Chicago 
to  Detroit,  with  a  lateral  one  perhaps  to  Monroe, 
seems  to  be  considered  as  the  least  chimerical ; 
though  there  are  not  a  few  who  advocate  a  canal 
immediately  across  the  peninsula,  in  a  direct  line 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Maumee  to  Lake  Michigan ; 
and  still  a  greater  number  who  urge  the  construc- 
tion of  one  from  the  mouth  of  the  Raisin  to  that  of 

M  2 


138  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

the  St.  Joseph's,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  penin- 
sula— a  route  which  would  pass  through  a  country- 
acknowledged,  I  believe,  to  be  the  most  fertile  in 
Michigan.     But  another  project  still  remains,  as 
feasible,  or  perhaps  more  so  than  either  of  these. 
It  is  to  connect  the  Washtenong  or  Grand  River-^- 
a  noble  stream,  which  waters  half  the  territory,  and 
is  navigable  nearly  240  miles  in  bateaux — with 
the  Huron,  a  fine  stream,  which,  after  rising  within 
a  few  miles  of  the  sources  of  the  Washtenong, 
empties  into  Lake  Erie,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
peninsula.     You  can  hardly  form  an  idea  of  the 
relative  importance  and  feasibility  of  these  pro- 
jects, without  more  knowledge   of  the    territory 
of  Michigan  than  is  common  at  the  east,  where 
people  generally  know  about  as  much  of  it  as  they 
do  of  Timbuctoo.     I  have  already  been  so  fortu- 
nate in  my  opportunities  of  talking  with  well-in- 
formed people  here,  that  I  might  venture  at  once 
to  give  you  a  general  view  of  the  country,  but  I 
prefer  that  you  should  gather  whatever  informa- 
tion I  have  to  give  from  my  own  actual  observa- 
tions made  along  the  road.   With  regard  to  scenery, 
I  do  not  think,  from  what  I  have  yet  seen,  I  can 
promise  you  much;  but  for  agricultural  and  mineral 
resources,  and  for  manufacturing  and  commercial 
advantages,  I  think  I  can  produce  some  data  which, 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  139 

if  they  do  not  astonish  our  good  people  at  home  in 
regard  to  Michigan,  will  at  least  account  for  the 
emigrants  pouring  into  the  territory  as  they  do, 
and  believing  it  to  be  the  garden  of  the  Union. 
You  must,  however,  pick  up  your  information  as  I 
shall,  by  jogging  along  quietly  with  me  through  the 
country,  and  observing  matters  and  things  just  as 
they  come  beneath  our  eyes.  To-morrow  I  start 
for  the  interior.     Farewell. 


140  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 


LETTER  XII. 

Monroe  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  5,  1833. 

I  write  to  you  from  a  log-cabin  on  the  banks  of 

the  river  Raisin,  about  thirty  miles  above  Monroe. 

The  worthy  farmer,  upon  whose  premises  I  am 

quartered  for  the  night,  sits  with  his  child  on  his 

knee,  in  the  chimney-corner,  with  a  prosing  visiter, 

pipe  in  mouth,  opposite,  while  the  good  woman  is 

engaged  doing  some  "  chores"  at  the  farther  end 

of  the  apartment,  which  is,  of  course,  the  chief 

cooking,    eating,    sitting,   sleeping,   and    smoking 

chamber  in  the  house.     My  dormitory,  I  have  a 

shrewd  suspicion,  is  to  be  in  a  loft,  from  which  a 

lad  is  at  this  moment  descending  by  a  ladder  with 

some  corn  for  my  horse.     The  black  walnut  stand, 

upon  which  I  am  writing,  occupies  the  centre  of 

the  room ;  and  as  I  am  at  this  moment  keeping 

up  my  share  in  a  desultory  conversation  going 

forward  around  me,  and  at  the  same  time  trying  to 

check  the  undue  familiarity  of  a  large  bull-dog — 

who,  like  other  individuals,  has  become  troublesome 

from  being   admitted  too  rapidly  into   intimacy 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  141 

— you  must  not  expect  me  to  be  very  coherent  in 
detailing  the  impressions  of  the  day. 

It  was  a  gloomy,  lowering  morning,  with  occa- 
sional flakes  of  snow  driving  through  the  harsh 
atmosphere,  when  I  started  from  the  village  of 
Monroe,  well   mounted   on  a  stout  roan,  whose 
figure  and  action  would  command  thrice  the  sum 
in  New- York  that  the  animal  cost  me  here,  and 
whose  performance  to-day  speaks  well  of  the  de- 
pendence   I  may    place  upon   him   to   carry  me 
through  my  arduous  route  into  the  interior  of  the 
Peninsula.     It  was  with  a  feeling  of  almost  boyish 
pleasure  that,  after  the  slight  taste  I  have  had  of 
stage-coach  travelling  from  Pittsburg  to  Cleveland, 
and  from  Detroit  to  Monroe,  I  found  myself  once 
more  in  the  saddle,  with  the  full  privilege  of  regu- 
lating my  motions  as  I  choose.     The   delightful 
mode  in  which  I  travelled  with  S from  New- 
York  to  Wheeling,  in  a  barouche,  with  two  led 
horses  under   the  saddle,   was,  indeed,  both  for 
pleasure  and  solid  comfort,  not  to  be  surpassed. 
But  now,   though   I  have  neither  the   agreeable 
friend,  the  attentive  groom,  nor  the  luxurious  car- 
riage to  enhance  the  gratification  and  relieve  the 
weariness  of  travelling,  the  feeling  of  independence 
still  remains.     And  though  I  confess  I  could  not 
suppress  a  sigh  this  morning,  when  packing  up  the 


142  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

linen  and  books  which,  with  my  trunk,  I  shall  not 
see  for  a  month  to  come  ;  yet  that  pair  of  saddle- 
bags beneath  my  feet,  though  conscious  only  of  a 
shirt  apiece,  flanked  as  they  are  by  my  light  fowl- 
ing-piece, which  that  weather-beaten  worthy  is  at 
this  moment  curiously  examining,  and  my  leggings, 
which  are  drying  upon  those  andirons,  make  me 
feel  as  rich  as  did  that  famous  soldato  Dugald  Dal- 
getty  himself,  with  his  single  change  of  chamois 
leather  and  iron  overcoat,  while  handling  his  arms 
and  surveying  his  compact  appointments  from  the 
back  of  the  doughty  Gustavus. 

My  road  led,  from  the  moment  of  leaving  the 
village,  along  the  banks  of  the  Raisin,  whose  ser- 
pentine   current  flowed   fuller    and    clearer    the 
farther  I  advanced  into  the  country.     The  land  at 
the  same  time  gradually  rising,  and  though  never 
hilly,  yet  leaving  the  stream  far  enough  below  to 
form  a  bluff  of  some  ten  or  fifteen  feet,  where  the 
timber-land  rose  from  the  rich  bottoms  on  its  mar- 
gin.    After  riding   thus  for   about  twenty  miles 
along  the  river,  where  the  log-cabins  gradually  be- 
came fewer  and  farther  between,  I  struck  through 
a  wood  so  dense  that  it  seemed  to  terminate  the 
settlements  in  this  direction,  and  then  at  a  sudden 
turning  of  the  path,  I  came  at  once  upon  the  "  oak 
openings."     It  would  be  difficult  to  convey  an  idea 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  143 

of  the  pleasing  effect  of  such  a  surprise.     Imagine 
yourself  emerging  from  a  New-Jersey  swamp,  and 
coming  at  one  bound  upon  one  of  the  English  parks 
which  Puckler  Muskaw  so  admirably  describes. 
Clumps  of  the  noblest  oaks,  with  not  a  twig  of  un- 
derwood, extending  over  a  gently  undulating  grassy 
surface  as  far  as  the  eve  can  reach ;  here  clustered 
together  in  a  grove  of  tall  stems  supporting  one 
broad  canopy  of  interlacing  branches,  and  there 
rearing  their  gigantic  trunks  in  solitary  grandeur 
from  the  plain.     The  feeling  of  solitude  I  had  while 
in  the  deep  woods  deserted  me  the  moment  I  came 
upon  this  beautiful  scene,  and  I  rode  on  for  hours, 
unable  without  an  effort  to  divest  myself  of  the  idea 
that  I  was  in  a  cultivated  country. 

Towards  evening  I  found  myself  in  the  thick 
forest  again,  and  was  glad,  as  the  nighf  closed  in 
darkly  over  the  road  where  at  every  step  my 
horse  would  either  sink  to  his  knees  in  mud,  or 
trip  over  the  stubble  of  newly  cut  saplings,  to  be 
overtaken  by  a  mail-rider,  with  his  leathern  charge 
on  horseback.  The  lonely  lad  was  as  glad  of  com- 
pany through  the  forest  as  I  was  of  a  guide ;  and 
he  willingly  taking  the  lead,  I  flung  my  bridle  on 
my  horse's  neck,  as  the  skies  became  blacker  and 
blacker,  and  touching  him  smartly  with  the  spur, 
away  we  went  through  the  woods   together.-^ 


144  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

"  Take  care  of  that  tree,  sir ;  look  out  for  the  mud- 
hole" — called  my  goblin  usher  at  each  moment,  as 
we  tramped  and  splashed  along,  where  I  would 
have  defied  the  Evil  One  himself  to  have  seen  any 
thing  but  the  impenetrable  dark.     I  heeded  him 
not ;  but  bending  low  in  the  saddle  to  avoid  the 
boughs,  and  gluing  my  knees  to  the  surcingle,  I 
surrendered  myself  to  my  destiny,  and  attended  to 
nothing  but  keeping  my  horse  as  close  as  possible 
to  the  heels  of  his  file  leader.    At  length  we  reached 
a  clearing,  and  a  few  yards  of  better  road  brought 
us  to  a  log-cabin.     The  family   were   at  supper 
when  I  entered  ;  and  sitting  down  with  the  rest,  I 
helped  myself  with  an  iron  spoon  from  a  dish  of 
suppawn,  and  fishing  up  a  cup  from  the  bottom  of 
a  huge  pan  of  milk,  I  poured  the  snowy  liquid  over 
the  boiled  meal  that  rivalled  it  in  whiteness.     The 
corn,  from  which  it  is  made,  my  host  tells  me,  grew 
to  the  height  of  sixteen  feet,  the  stalks  being  of  a 
blackish  green  colour.    From  the  same  soil,  a  black 
sandy  loam  of  easy  tillage,  wheat  as  high   as  a 
man's   head  has  been  raised  ;  the   produce   from 
a  single  grain  being  from  300  to  400,  and  in  one 
instance  one  thousand  and  twenty-six.    I  see  symp- 
toms of  sleeping  in  those  around  me ;  and  having 
no  right  to  monopolize  this  important  apartment, 
will  conclude  this  elsewhere  to-morrow. 


A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  145 

Tecumseh,  Lenawee  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  6. 

The  cockloft,  as  I  expected,  was  my  place  of 
rest.  I  stumbled  over  a  pile  of  corn,  and  struck 
my  head  against  the  roof,  almost  as  soon  as  I  had 
got  my  body  fairly  above  the  trap-door.  I  found  a 
clean  bed,  however,  and  it  was  a  very  sociable 
place  after  all ;  for  there  were  four  persons 
besides  myself  stowed  away  in  the  different 
corners.  So  soundly  did  I  sleep  on  my  straw 
pallet,  that  the  night  seemed  to  me  but  just  begun, 
when  the  red  glare  of  a  tallow  candle  flashing  over 
my  eyes,  with  the  tap  of  the  mail  rider  on  my 
shoulder,  told  me  that  dawn  was  breaking,  and 
that  we  must  be  gone.  The  landlord  brought 
out  a  lantern  for  me  to  mount  by ;  and  we  had 
proceeded  far  on  our  journey  before  the  faintest 
streak  in  the  East  indicated  the  waking  of  the  sun. 

It  was  about  seven  o'clock,  when,  stopping  to 
water  at  a  little  shantee,  I  found  several  labouring 
people  at  breakfast  within ;  and  the  mail  carrier  con- 
senting to  wait  for  me,  I  sat  down  at  table  at  once 
with  the  rest.  The  fare  consisted  of  hot  rolls  and 
tea,  with  large  pieces  of  pork  swimming  in  its  gravy, 
with  a  plate  of  noble  potatoes,  that  pulverized  when 
you  touched  them.  My  plate  was  heaped  at  once 
with  all,  while  each  one  present  vied  with  the  other 
in  civility  to  me.     They  were  talking  of  a  horse, 

VOL.  I. N 


146  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

for  which  a  hundred  dollars  had  been  paid,  when  I 
entered ;  and  an  English  poaching  gun  I  have  with 
me,  not  worth  a  fifth  of  the  sum,  caught  the  fancy 
of  the  owner.  He  insisted  upon  "  swapping  with 
me  on  equal  terms,"  and  seemed  much  hurt  when  I 
refused  not  only  to  "  trade,"  but  expressed  no  in- 
clination to  see  his  favourite  steed.  I  replied, 
however,  so  good  humouredly  to  his  entreaties,  that 
he  still  persisted  in  them  until  taken  aside  by  one 
or.two  of  those  present.  He  then  came  up  to  me 
in  an  altered  manner — "  I  hope,  sir,  that  I  don't  in- 
sult you  by  wanting  to  buy  that  curiosest  of  guns,  for 
I  don't  mean  to  be  uncivil — not  at  all — in  the  least." 
Upon  assuring  him  that  I  had  taken  no  offence,  he 
rejoined,  that  if  his  horse  was  not  worth  two 
hundred  dollars  he  would  eat  him,  but  he  had 
set  his  heart  upon  that  gun,  and  must  have  it.  I 
did  not  like  to  expose  myself  to  the  temptation  of 
seeing  the  horse,  though  of  course  I  did  not  think 
for  a  moment  of  taking  advantage  of  the  honest 
yeoman's  caprice ;  but  had  it  not  been  a  present 
from  a  friend  abroad,  I  should  certainly  have  given 
my  ardent  acquaintance  the  toy  which  caught  his 
fancy  after  what  followed.  "  I  say,  stranger,"  said 
he,  musing  for  a  moment,  "  do  you  want  a  farm, 
eh !  a  house,  eh !  I'll  trade  you  as  good  a  tavern 
stand,  two   miles   from   this,   as   there   is  in  the 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  147 

county."  I  got  away  at  last  as  he  followed  me  to 
the  door,  and  held  my  bridle  to  mount,  by  promis- 
ing to  leave  him  the  object  of  his  desires  in  my 
will. 

The  character  of  the  country  continued  for  some 
miles  much  the  same  as  that  passed  over  yester- 
day, though  the  river  gradually  degenerated  into  a 
narrow,  muddy  stream.  The  log-cabins  which 
always  occurred  in  the  heavily-timbered  district, 
had  nothing  to  distinguish  them  from  each  other, 
and  the  openings  were  as  silent  as  if  man  and 
beast  had  deserted  them  ;  though  I  saw  a  couple 
of  deer  in  one  instance  feeding  afar  off,  and  met  a 
settler  who  was  carrying  a  wolf,  just  caught  in  a 
trap  by  the  road-side,  on  his  shoulders.  I  was 
struck,  too,  at  seeing  no  less  than  three  pet  fawns 
near  different  houses,  within  a  few  miles  of  each 
other.  In  one  instance  a  tall  hound  was  sitting 
erect  beside  one  of  these  gentle  creatures,  who 
was  licking  the  ears  of  the  enemy  of  his  race. 
The  incident  reminded  me  of  an  anecdote  I  heard 
told  by  an  old  hunter  in  one  of  the  wild  mountain 
districts  of  New- York.  His  favourite  hound,  one 
morning,  when  the  deer  were  in  the  red  coat  and 
not  fit  to  hunt,  came  to  him  while  chopping,  and 
made  signs  for  his  master  to  follow  to  a  thicket  not 
far  off,  where  the  woodman  discovered  a  fawn  so 


148  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

entangled  that  it  could  not  escape.  It  was  so 
small  and  feeble  that  he  carried  it  away  with  ease 
in  his  arms,  while  the  doe,  which  was  near  at  hand, 
followed  her  bleating  offspring.  The  dog  accom- 
panied him  with  great  apparent  joy,  and,  though 
one  of  the  keenest  of  his  kind,  would  drive  off  the 
grown  deer  only  a  few  rods,  and  then  return  at 
once  to  keep  an  eye  on  his  master's  movements. 
The  fawn  was  taken  home,  and,  being  fed  continu- 
ally by  the  children,  soon  went  tame  about  the 
house.  The  dog,  however,  insisted  upon  sleeping 
with  it,  and  could  scarcely  be  separated  from  his 
long-eared  friend ;  and  when  it  met  with  the  usual 
fate  of  pets,  and  died  prematurely,  a  month  or  two 
after,  poor  Ring  was  inconsolable.  The  worthy 
English  settler,  who  had  been  a  gamekeeper  in  the 
"  auld  country"  in  his  day,  added,  that  he  had  the 
curiosity  to  dress  a  piece  of  the  venison,  which, 
fond  as  hounds  are  of  that  food,  was  rejected  with 
disgust  by  the  canine  mourner. 

One  of  the  other  fawns  which  I  saw,  would, 
with  the  group  attendant,  have  made  a  pretty  sub- 
ject for  Fisher's  pencil.  He  had  thrust  his  head 
into  a  bevy  of  rosy  little  girls,  who  were  making 
"  sand  pies"  on  the  bank  of  the  river ;  and  as  his 
delicate  hoofs  threatened  to  demolish  the  rural 
substitutes   for  the   card-houses  of  parlour-bred 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  149 

urchins,  one  of  the  little  architects,  covering  her 
work  with  her  hands,  kept  the  intrusive  animal  at 
bay  with  her  head  ;  the  long  yellow  locks  of  which 
streamed  over  his  bluish  crest,  while  the  perverse 
beast  twisted  his  snout  under  and  insisted  upon 
licking  her  face. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  afternoon  when  I  arrived 
at  this  place,  and  my  surprise  was  not  slight,  after 
coming  through  a  region  where  every  mile  seemed 
to  lead  me  farther  from  civilization,  to  light  sud- 
denly upon  a  pretty  village  laid  out  with  broad 
streets,  and  having  an  excellent  tavern  on  a  public 
square  in  the  centre.  I  entered  the  town  through 
an  oak  opening.  Within  a  few  hundred  yards 
from  the  village  I  passed  a  half-dozen  graves, 
apparently  dug  at  random  among  the  trees,  though 
each  was  ornamented  with  a  handsome  head-stone. 
I  have  since  learned  that  the  town's  people,  with  a 
degree  of  consideration  which  might  well  be  emu- 
lated in  larger  cities,  are  already  making  arrange- 
ments to  lay  out  and  plant  a  public  cemetery  for 
the  use  of  every  religious  denomination  in  the 
place.  At  Monroe,  I  believe  they  have  already 
done  the  same  thing.  There,  indeed,  they  had  an 
ample  number  of  guests  for  the  narrow  house, 
before  even  the  abodes  for  the  living  were  built. 

The   bones   of  those   massacred   on  the   Raisin, 

n  2 


150  A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

bleached  till  within  a  few  years  on  the  banks  of 
that  river ;  and  an  inhabitant  of  the  place  told  me 
that  he  had  often  walked  over  the  execution- 
ground  and  handled  sculls  that  were  cloven  with 
the  tomahawk.  There  is  also  an  Indian  cemetery 
about  twelve  miles  from  Monroe,  where  the  skele- 
tons of  the  dead  can  be  plainly  seen  through  the 
crevices  of  the  stone-pile  heaped  above  them.  I 
am  told  that  they  are  wholly  unmolested  by  the 
white  inhabitants ;  partly  from  feelings  of  decency 
creditable  to  themselves,  and  partly,  perhaps,  from 
fear  of  the  roving  relatives  of  the  deceased,  who 
return  yearly  and  observe  the  condition  of  the 
spot  with  a  jealous  eye.  Not  far  from  this  place 
resides  an  old  settler,  who  has  killed  a  half  a  dozen 
Indians  with  his  own  hand.  Three  or  four  of  them 
he  shot  with  his  rifle  from  his  cabin,  when  they 
surrounded  it  to  capture  him  ;  and  the  stories  told 
of  his  encounters  with  the  others  might  better  be 
detailed  by  a  novelist  than  a  letter-writer.  I  have 
seen  nothing  of  the  natives  yet,  except  a  couple  of 
Wyandott  squaws ;  though  the  French  settlers, 
with  their  elf  locks  and  blanket  capotes,  might  at  a 
distance  be  well  taken  for  aborigines.  I  think  a 
little  of  starting  at  once  for  the  rapids  of  the  Grand 
River,  and  spending  a  week  or  two  among  the  Ot- 
towas,  who,  I  am  told,  are  still  there  in  consider- 


A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  151 

able  numbers,  and  preserving  enough  of  their  origi- 
nal habits  to  make  them  fair  specimens  of  the 
Michigan  Indians.  They  tell  me,  however,  that  a 
guide  will  be  indispensable ;  and  having  already 
offered  one  in  vain  a  fair  compensation,  I  may  be 
compelled  to  give  up  the  attempt. 

The  Grand  River,  or  Washtenong,  is,  as  I  have 
before  mentioned,  the  largest  stream  in  the  Penin- 
sula, being  270  miles  in  length,  while  the  country 
watered  by  it  consists  of  about  7,000  square  miles. 
It  has  a  good  harbour  at  its  mouth,  on  Lake  Michi- 
gan, for  vessels  drawing  eight  feet  water,  and  it  is 
navigable  for  those  drawing  four  feet  for  more  than 
thirty  miles  from  the  lake :  while  farther  inland  it 
traverses  a  country  represented  by  my  informant, 
who  has  recently  returned  from  surveying  in  that 
distant  region,  as  of  immense  fertility.  There  are 
also  beds  of  gypsum  and  lime,  with  stone-quar- 
ries and  mines  of  iron,  with  indications  of  the 
existence  of  copper,  to  be  found  on  its  tributaries, 
while  a  hundred  mineral  springs— which  seem  to 
abound  in  this  country,  for  I  have  already  seen  a 
half  a  dozen — enrich  the  central  region  where  its 
branches  interlock  with  the  bright  waters  of  the 
Huron  on  the  eastern,  and  the  myriads  of  streams 
and  lakes  which  form  the  sources  of  the  Kekalama- 
zoo,  on  the  western  side  of  the  Peninsula. 


152  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

They  tell  me  here  that  it  would  be  in  vain  for 
me  to  attempt  to  cross  the  country  from  Chicago 
to  St.  Louis  alone  at  this  season  of  the  year,  when, 
if  the  vast  prairies  are  covered  with  snow,  I  should 
be  lost  beyond  a  certainty  ;  and  as  I  am  now  com- 
pelled to  remain  until  the  new  public  conveyance, 
contracted  for  by  government,  commences  running 
on  the  first  of  January,  I  shall  employ  the  inter- 
mediate time  in  seeing  as  much  of  Michigan  as 
possible.  I  find  myself  among  the  most  intelligent 
population  of  the  middle  class  (the  bone  and  sinew- 
of  a  community)  I  ever  mixed  with ;  and  every 
one  seems  so  contented,  may  even  say  delighted, 
with  his  adopted  home,  that  I  am  catching  a  little 
of  the  spirit  of  those  around  me,  and  am  eager  to 
visit  more  intimately  scenes,  which  one  would  sup- 
pose were  Elysian,  by  the  way  in  which  people 
talk  of  them.  I  find  myself  as  yet  only  thirty-five 
miles  from  Monroe  by  the  new  U.  S.  road,  though 
the  route  I  travelled  was  sixty-five.  When  you 
next  hear  from  me  I  shall  be  farther  in  the  interior, 
and  hope  to  be  able  to  tell  you  that  I  have  seen  a 
hill  or  a  rock,  the  sight  of  either  of  which  would, 
I  confess,  be  refreshing,  in  spite  of  all  the  charms 
of  oak  openings,  vine-hung  streams,  and  grassy 
bottoms. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  153 


LETTER  XIII. 

Saline,  Washtenaw  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  7. 

I  have  just  spent  an  hour  with  Mr.  Risden,  the 
surveyor  of  a  great  part  of  Michigan,  at  whose 
house  I  have  stopped  for  the  night,  in  talking  about 
the  district  with  which  he  is  familiar  ;  and  I  shall 
avail  myself  of  the  information  thus  acquired,  in  fill- 
ing up  hereafter  my  notes  upon  the  country.  The 
conversation  turning  upon  the  healthfulness  of 
Michigan,  there  was  not  one  out  of  several  resi- 
dents present  who  did  not  allow  the  existence  of 
bilious  fevers  and  fever  and  ague,  in  every  part  of 
the  country ;  but  they  spoke  of  passing  through 
these  diseases  as  merely  a  slight  process  of  accli- 
mating, which,  in  the  general  health  of  the  coun- 
try, was  hardly  to  be  considered.  They  asserted, 
too,  what  I  have  before  heard  stated  by  more  than 
one  physician  in  the  territory,  that  Michigan  is 
exempt  from  many  of  the  diseases  most  fatal  to 
human  life  at  the  East.  Consumption,  for  in- 
stance,— which  a  reference  to  the  bills  of  mortality 
will  show  destroys  almost  as  many  in  New- York, 


154  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

take  year  and  year  together  for  several  in  succes- 
sion,* as  does  the  yellow-fever  in  New-Orleans, — is 
here  unknown.  Not  only,  I  am  told,  do  no  cases 
originate  here,  but  many  persons  from  New- York, 
it  is  pretended,  have  been  cured  of  the  complaint 
by  coming  to  reside  in  Michigan.  The  most  un- 
healthy points  are  in  the  vicinity  of  mill-dams,  and 
of  marshes,  near  both  of  which  the  settlers  take 
particular  pains  to  "  locate  ;"  the  first  for  the 
convenience  of  grinding  and  sawing,  and  near  the 
last  for  the  rich  grass  they  afford  with  only  the 
trouble  of  mowing.  Health,  indeed,  is  the  last 
thing  a  settler  seems  to  think  of,  by  the  way  in 
which  he  chooses  a  site  for  his  house.  In  a  coun- 
try so  abounding  with  lakes  and  streams  of  the 
purest  water,  and  filled  with  fish,  that  you  may 
pass  a  dozen  in  a  ride  of  as  many  miles,  you  but 
seldom  find  a  house  on  their  banks  ;  while  the  pur- 
chaser of  a  new  possession  neglects  alike  the 
tempting-looking  oak  opening,  and  erects  his  dwell- 
ing in  the  thick  forest,  provided  only  a  road  or 
trail  passes  within  three  feet  of  his  door.  A  trail, 
by-the-way,  I  must  tell  you,  is  an  Indian  footpath, 

*  Unless  I  am  much  mistaken,  the  deaths  from  consumption 
alone  average  twenty-five  a  week,  which  will  give  12  or  1400 
fatal  cases  in  a  year ;  a  terrible  result  from  one  complaint 
Alone. 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  155 

that  has  been  travelled  perhaps  for  centuries,  and 
bears  here  the  same  relation  to  an  ordinary  road 
that  a  turnpike  does  to  a  railroad  in  your  state. 
He  chooses,  in  short,  the  most  fertile  spot  on  his 
acres,  in  order  to  have  a  garden  immediately 
around  his  house,  which  he  places  plump  upon  the 
road,  in  order  to  have  it  "  more  sociable-like,  and 
see  folks  passing."  His  garden  grows  from  almost 
nothing.  The  first  year  the  hog-pen  and  cow- 
yard  occupy  the  place  designed  for  its  commence- 
ment. They  are  moved  farther  from  the  house 
the  second  year,  and  a  few  cabbages  occupy  the 
place  which  they  have  enriched  by  their  temporary 
situation  upon  it.  They  move  again  on  the  third 
year ;  and  the  garden,  which  can  now  boast  of  a 
few  currant-bushes  and  a  peach-tree,  expands  over 
the  place  they  have  ceased  to  occupy.  And  now 
our  settler,  having  built  a  fine  barn,  and  "got  things 
snug  about  him,"  begins  to  like  the  looks  of  the 
woods  again,  which  he  has  so  industriously  swept 
from  every  spot  that  can  be  seen  from  his  door. 
He  shoulders  his  pickaxe,  goes  out  into  the 
forest,  and  selecting  two  of  the  straightest  maple 
saplings  he  can  find,  they  are  at  once  disinterred, 
their  heads  chopped  off,  to  make  these  tall  awk- 
ward things  look  civilized,  and  the  pair  of  poles, 


156  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

thrust  into  the  ground  within  two  feet  of  his  door, 
are  whitewashed  and  called  trees. 

Dexter,  Washtenaw  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  12. 

I  have  been  here  two  or  three  days ;  but  so 
occupied  in  riding  about  looking  at  the  country, 
that  I  have  not  till  now  attempted  to  finish  this 
letter.     Far  different  is  the  appearance  of  the  cot- 
tages  here  from   those   described  above,  as  the 
common  residence  of  new  settlers.     They  build 
almost  altogether  in  the  oak  openings ;  and  as  the 
country  is   now   undulating,  I   have    seen   some 
cabins  very  prettily  situated  in  clumps  of  oaks,  a 
gun-shot  from  the  road,  with  fields  of  young  wheat 
extending  in  every  direction  around  them.     The 
soil,  when  first  turned  up,  is  a  kind  of  yellow 
gravel,  very  unpromising  in  its  appearance ;  but 
it  rapidly  undergoes  a  chymical  change,  becoming 
almost  black  in  fields  of  two  years'  cultivation,  and 
improving  every  season  without  the  aid  of  a  par- 
ticle of  manure.     I  have  now  got  among  the  roll- 
ing land,  in  a  region  full  of  lakes  and  oak  open- 
ings, of  which  hitherto  I  had  only  a  taste.     I  need 
hardly  say  how  much  more  grateful  such  a  coun- 
try is  to  my  eye  than  the  level  thickly-timbered 
lands  about  Detroit  and  Monroe. 

I  came  hither  by  way  of  the  pretty  village  of 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  157 

Anne-Arbour,  which  contains,  I  should  think,  seven 
or  eight  hundred  inhabitants ;  many  of  whom,  I 
am  told,  are  very  respectable  English  emigrants. 
I  stopped  at  a  farm-house,  about  five  miles  from 
here,  to  dine.  A  white-headed  boy,  six  or  seven 
years  old,  was  turning  a  grindstone  before  the 
door,  while  a  couple  of  Indians  sharpened  their 
knives.  Near  them  a  miserable  pony,  with  his 
wooden  saddle  covered  with  a  freshly-flayed  deer, 
and  a  brindled,  wiry-haired  dog,  with  the  head  of  a 
wolf  and  the  crest  of  a  boar,  skulked  around  the 
slaughtered  game,  and  snarled  in  its  protection, 
when,  after  dismounting,  I  approached  it.  His 
swarthy  masters  and  myself  entered  the  house 
together.  "  Tenepe  keen  chemocomon  V  (Where 
is  your  American  ?)  said  the  oldest  of  the  two  to  a 
very  pretty  Connecticut  girl,  who  had  recently 
followed  her  husband  to  this  country.  She  re- 
plied by  pointing  to  him,  working  at  a  distance 
in  a  field,  and  the  Indians  sat  down  patiently  till 
the  farmer  entered.  The  venison  was  then  laid 
on  a  table,  and  a  bargaining  scene  commenced, 
which  lasted  full  half  an  hour.  "  Cau-nee-shin, 
chomocomon"  (Not  a  good  American),  said  one  of 
the  red  barterers,  turning  to  me,  as  the  white 
trader  offered  him  what  he  thought  too  little  for  a 
whole  deer.     The  bargain  was  struck,  however 

VOL.  I. — O 


158  A     WINTER    IN     THE    WEST. 

before  a  by-stander  could  interpret  the  appeal  for 
me.  The  skin  still  remained  with  the  Indian,  and 
I  was  not  a  little  surprised  to  see  produced  from 
it  a  variety  of  articles  of  Indian  produce,  among 
which  were  large  cakes  of  deer's  tallow,  about 
the  size  of  an  ordinary  cheese.  These  were  all 
traded  away  in  succession,  and  a  small  cask  pro- 
duced by  the  Indian  was  filled  with  whiskey  on 
the  spot ;  and  the  eldest  mounting  the  pony,  they 
both  shook  me  by  the  hand,  and  soon  disappeared 
with  their  poisonous  burden  behind  a  turning  of 
the  road.  They  were  of  the  Ottawa  tribe,  well- 
made  men,  though  slightly  built,  and  with  aquiline 
noses  and  finely-shaped  heads  ;  and  each,  when  I 
first  saw  them,  had  the  freest  and  most  graceful  step 
I  ever  saw,  whether  on  the  sod  or  in  the  ball-room. 
How  complete  was  the  metamorphosis  when  I 
overtook  them  half  an  hour  afterward  in  the 
woods !  The  eldest,  who  could  not  have  been 
more  than  five-and-thirty,  was  barely  sober  enough 
to  guide  his  horse,  and  sitting  with  both  arms 
around  the  barrel  of  whiskey  on  the  pommel 
before  him,  he  reminded  me  of  an  engraving  of 
Bacchus,  in  a  very  vulgar  and  not  very  witty 
book,  called  Homer  Travestie.  The  Indian  grav- 
ity, which  had  before  been  preserved  amid  all  the 
nervousness  incident  to  a  trading  operation,  had 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  159 

now  thoroughly  deserted  him,  and  toddling  from 
side  to  side,  he  muttered  a  sort  of  recitative,  which 
combined  all  the  excellences  of  the  singing  and 
spouting  of  a  civilized  toper.  His  companion,  a 
youth  of  but  seventeen,  seemed  perfectly  sober, 
and  stopping  only  occasionally  to  pick  up  the  whip 
of  the  fumbling  rider,  he  stepped  so  lightly  by  his 
horse's  side  that  the  leaves  scarcely  rustled  be- 
neath his  moccasin.  I  was  somewhat  pained,  of 
course,  at  the  exhibition,  though  I  confess  I  was 
not  a  little  diverted,  while  riding  along  for  miles  in 
the  silent  woods,  with  such  grotesque  company. 
The  pedestrian  continued  as  reserved  and  respect- 
ful as  ever ;  but  my  fellow-cavalier,  after  talking  a 
quantity  of  gibberish  to  me,  which  was,  of  course, 
perfectly  unintelligible,  seemed  to  be  at  last  quite 
angry  because  I  could  not  understand  him  ;  then, 
after  again  becoming  pacified,  he  found  a  new 
source  of  vehemence  in  urging  me  to  "  schwap 
pasischegun"  (exchange  my  gun,  to  which  he  took  a 
great  fancy)  for  his  " papooshc  pascocachee"  (child 
of  a  horse),  as  he  called  a  colt  that  followed  the 
forlorn  pony  on  which  he  rode.  I  could  not  help 
blaming  myself,  however,  for  having  been  so  long 
diverted  with  the  frailties  of  this  hospitable  Sile- 
nus,  when  at  parting,  about  nightfall,  where  he 
struck  into  the  forest,  he  gave  me  an  invitation  to 


160  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

his  wigwam,  twenty  miles  off,  signifying  the  dis- 
tance by  raising  all  his  fingers  twice,  at  the  same 
time  using  the  words,  "  Howh !  keen  marchee  neen 
wigwam"  (come  to  my  wigwam).  How  strangely 
are  we  constituted,  that  one  should  derive  amuse- 
ment in  the  woods  from  an  exhibition  which,  in  a 
city,  would  only  excite  pain  and  disgust !  I  have 
never  seen  a  half-intoxicated  Indian  before  without 
the  deepest  feelings  of  commiseration.  As  for  the 
alleged  crime  of  selling  Indians  whiskey,  it  is  im- 
possible to  prevent  it.  The  love  of  spirituous 
liquors  is  a  natural  craving  of  the  red  man,  which 
is  irrepressible,  and  as  such  I  have  heard  the  most 
humane  and  intelligent  persons  speak  of  it,— people 
who  have  passed  their  lives  among  the  Indians, 
and  have  done  their  best  to  snatch  them  from  this 
perdition.  The  haughtiest  chief  will  travel  a  hun- 
dred miles  for  a  pint  of  whiskey,  and  get  drunk 
the  moment  he  receives  it,  wheresoever  he  may  be. 
Providence  seems  to  have  designed  that  this  mys- 
terious race  should  not  continue  upon  the  earth, 
and  fate  has  infused  a  fatal  thirst  into  their  bosoms, 
which  is  hastening  their  doom  with  fearful  celerity. 
But  six  years  ago,  and  the  woods  around  me  were 
alive  with  Indians ;  now  they  are  only  traversed 
by  a  few  such  stragglers  as  these.  You  may  talk 
of  civilizing  them,— but  that,  too,  is  impossible- 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  161 

You  may  more  easily  civilize  the  stupidest  African 
than  the  most  intelligent  Indian  ;  and  yet,  who  for 
a  moment  would  compare  the  erect  port  and 
manly  tread,  the  air,  the  blooded  look  of  the  one, 
with  his  keen  sagacity  and  rare  instincts,  to  the 
misshapen  form,  the  shuffling  gait,  and  stupid  bear- 
ing of  the  other  ?  Where,  then,  lies  the  difficulty  ? 
The  African  is  an  imitative  animal, — the  Indian  is 
not.  He  will  copy  the  form  of  your  weapons,  for 
he  has  felt  their  edge ;  and  he  will  make  himself 
ridiculous  by  wearing  a  cocked  hat,  because  he 
conceives  it  to  be  an  emblem  of  authority.  Rings 
and  bracelets  he  may  wear,  for  they  recom- 
mend him  to  his  own  tribe ;  but  the  forms  and 
fashions  of  civilization  he  despises.  The  negro 
furnishes  the  best  raw  material  for  a  dandy  that 
can  be  had  ;  he  learns  at  once  how  to  wear  his  hat 
and  adjust  his  shirt-collar,  according  to  the  last 
mode  of  the  white  man.  The  Indian,  if  a  fop, 
departs  even  further  than  usual  from  the  costume 
of  a  European.  He  comes  from  Nature's  hands  all 
that  she  ever  intended  him  to  be, — the  wild  man 
of  the  woods.  To  the  fleetness  of  the  deer  in  trav- 
ersing the  forest,  he  unites  the  instinct  of  the 
hound  in  finding  his  way ;  and  when  you  add  to 
these  the  mental  gift  of  a  certain  wrild  eloquence, 

wholly   unimprovable   by  cultivation,   you    have 

o2 


\ 


162  A.    WINTER     IN    THE     WEST. 

nearly  summed  up  the  intellectual  qualifications  of 
the  American  savage, — the  genuine  child  of  nature 
— the  untamed — the  untameable. 

I  had  a  long  conversation  on  this  subject  yester- 
day with  a  middle-aged  gentleman  of  high  intelli- 
gence and  character,  for  many  years  settled  in  the 
territory,  and  who  has  availed  himself  of  unusual 
opportunities  of  studying  Indian  life  and  manners. 
We  had  been  all  day  in  a  canoe,  paddled  by  our- 
selves, exploring  a  chain  of  small  lakes  in  this 
vicinity;  and  the   perfect  stillness  of  the  woods 
around,  while  floating  at  sunset  over  the  trans- 
parent water,  induced  him  to  remark  upon  the 
rapid  disappearance  of  the  inhabitants  ;  who,  but 
six  years  since,  when  he  first  visited  this  part  of 
Michigan,  kept  their  canoes  upon  every  stream  in 
the  country.     The  observation  suggested  the  dis- 
cussion, already  alluded  to,  upon  the  feasibility  of 
civilizing  the  Indians ;  and  he  told  me  a  variety  of 
anecdotes  about  a  young  Ottawa  chief  with  an  un- 
pronounceable name,  whom,  on  various  accounts, 
he  had  once  thought  the  fittest  subject  for  social 
life  he  had  ever  met  with  among  the  aborigines. 
The  conclusion  of  his  relation  was  so  whimsical 
and  strikingly  characteristic,  that  I  will  finish  this 
letter  with  the  details  precisely  as  I  took  them 
down  in  my  note-book  from  the  lips  of  my  inform- 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  163 

ant ;  our  canoe,  the  while,  being  allowed  to  float 
as  she  listed  along  the  placid  bosom  of  one  of  those 
beautiful  lakes  into  which  the  river  Huron  expands 
a  few  miles  from  its  sources. 

"  As  we  came  one  day  to  the  Indian  encamp- 
ment, Ketche-waun-doug-enink  caught  me  by  the 
hand  as  usual,  with  his  shrill  exclamation  of  wel- 
come, and  my  party  proceeded  at  once  to  pitch 
our  tent  near  his,  before  a  blazing  fire  of  logs. 
After  affording  us  what  assistance  he  could,  the 
young  chief  left  us  ;  but  in  the  evening  he  called 
in  again  at  our  tent,  and  brought  his  father  and 
mother,  his  wife,  and  three  sisters  with  him.  They 
all  looked  quite  solemn,  and  in  his  manner,  particu- 
larly, there  was  something  altogether  unusual. 
Young  Ketche-waun-doug-enink  had  been  quite 
my  friend,  always  appeared  glad  to  see  me,  and 
was  generally  sociable  in  his  way,  but  now  he  was 
grave  and  reserved,  almost  to  severity.  My  fa- 
miliarity with  Indian  character  induced  me  to  sup- 
press every  thing  like  surprise  at  such  an  extra- 
ordinary change  of  deportment,  and  we  sat  thus,  I 
should  think,  for  at  least  half  an  hour.  At  last  the 
young  Indian  rose  up  in  a  formal  way,  and  taking 
a  position  full  in  the  light  of  the  fire,  began  a  speech 
abounding  with  gesture  and  vehemence.  The 
amount  of  it  was  this  : — '  Listen,  my  friend ;   I 


164  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

see  that  you  are  wiser  than  any  of  your  white 
brethren.'— ['  I  must  interrupt  my  story,'  said  my 
companion,  'to  remind   you,  that   believing  my 
vouno-  Indian  friend,  who  was  a  fine-looking  fellow, 
had  some  relish  for  civilization,  and  half  a  mind, 
indeed,  to  turn  white  man,  1  anticipated  that  some 
proposition  to  that  effect  would  be  the  purport  of 
his  speech.'] — He  continued — '  I  am  glad  to  see 
that  you  love  the  Indians ;  that  you  are  not  ashamed 
of  our  mode  of  life.     Let  me  tell  you,  what  I  pre- 
sume you  already  know,  that  the  life  of  the  white 
man  is  one  of  care  and  trouble.    The  Great  Spirit 
has  blessed  his  red  children  in  a  peculiar  manner. 
We  have  no  care.    We  are  as  Che-manitou*  made 
us.     We  have  not  degenerated,  but  are  still  his 
favourites.     You  never  see  a  wrinkle  on  the  brow 
of  an  Indian.     Look,  my  brother,  at  the  forehead 
of  my  old  father:  it  is  as  smooth  as  my  own, 
though  sixty  winters  have  whitened  his  head.    His 
days  have  glided  on  as  undisturbed  as  the  smooth 
stream  before  you.' — ['  We  were  on  the  banks  of 
the  Shiawassee,'  interrupted  the  narrator.] — '  Do 
you  see,  my  brother,  those  pebbles  in  the  bottom 
of  the  clear  stream  as  it  throws  back  the  light  of 
vour  fire  1     It  is  thus  that  every  thought  can  be 

*    *  Che-manitou,  God,  or  the  Great   Spirit ;    Mi-che-manitoa, 
the  devil,  or  the  evil  spirit. — See  note  D. 


A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  165 

seen  that  dwells  in  the  mind  of  the  Indian.  He 
has  no  disguise — no  cause  for  it — the  troubles  of 
the  white  man  disturb  not  the  clear  stream  of  his 
soul.  Come  with  us — share  with  us  the  gifts  of 
Che-manitou — think  no  more  of  those  distant  lands 
of  your  childhood,  where  men  live  but  to  harass 
each  other,  and  gather  riches  that  eat  the  soul  up 
with  care — come — here  you  will  build  your  wig- 
wam— I  will  help  you — you  shall  have  my  sister 
for  your  wife — she  shall  weave  your  mats,  and 
raise  your  corn,  and  dry  your  venison,  which  we 
will  kill  together  in  the  woods.  You  have  lived 
long  enough  a  life  of  wretchedness;  come  and  be 
happy  with  us/  " 

I  was  curious  to  learn  how  the  rest  of  the 
family,  and  especially  the  fair  member  of  it  par- 
ticularly designated  in  this  singular  harangue,  be- 
haved while  her  brother  was  pronouncing  it ;  and 
more  than  all,  how  the  object  of  it  himself  received 
the  address.  I  will  endeavour  to  give  you  the 
exact  replies  of  my  interesting  companion,  without 
repeating  the  various  questions  from  me  which 
elicited  them. 

"  My  young  friend  sat  down.  Throughout  his 
speech,  the  family  observed  the  utmost  silence. 
The  lady  in  question  was  as  indifferent  as  an  Indian 
could  be,  at  least  in  manner.     They  all  looked  at 


166  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

me  for  my  opinion — the  lady  excepted.  I  will 
confess  that  I  felt  embarrassed,  though  I  had  but 
half  a  dozen  Indians  for  my  audience.  An  answer 
however  was  necessary.  *  I  thank  you,  my  friend/ 
said  I,  '  and  needed  not  this  new  proof  of  your 
friendship.  I  am  sensible  Che-manitou  has  smiled 
upon  you ;  that  you  are  his  favourite  children. 
But  we  white  men  have  been  spoiled  by  educa- 
tion ;  we  have  been  taught  to  think  many  things 
necessary  that  you  red  men  can  do  well  without; 
and  inferior  as  our  mode  of  life  is  to  yours,  it  is 
not  the  least  of  its  evils  that  it  has  unfitted  us  for 
the  simple  pleasures  that  Che-manitou  every  day 
gives  you.  I  have  friends  and  a  mother  far  away 
towards  the  rising  sun.  She  does  not  know  the  red 
men,  and  might  not  be  a  mother  to  your  sister. 
Your  sister,  if  I  should  take  her  to  the  rising  sun 
with  me,  would  pine  for  her  green  woods  and  wig- 
wam by  the  bright  Shiawassee.  She  will  doubt- 
less be  happier  as  she  is.  She  will  take  for  her 
husband  some  red  man  like  yourself,  who  will  love 
her,  and  prize  the  blessings  which  Che-manitou 
yields  you.  I  again  thank  you,  my  friend,  and 
your  sister.  I  must,  after  a  few  days,  leave  this 
country;  but  I  shall  bear  my  friends  in  my  heart, 
and  in  the  crowded  city  where  the  white  men  live, 
I  shall  often  sigh  for  these  green  woods,  and  lament 
the  absence  of  my  red  friends/" 


A    WINTER     IN    THE     WEST.  167 


LETTER   XIV. 

Dexter,  Washtenaw  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  15th. 

I  have  been  waiting  here  since  I  last  wrote,  in 
order  to  join  an  exploring  party  of  three  or  four 
individuals,  to  go  up  into  Shiawassee  county,  to 
examine  lands.  A  heavy  snow-storm  has  set  in 
to-day,  however,  and  as  it  will  put  an  end  to  the 
expedition,  I  shall  probably  start  by  myself  for  the 
Kalamazoo  country  to-morrow.  The  journey  to 
Grand  River,  which  I  proposed  to  myself,  I  shall, 
from  the  time  it  would  consume,  be  compelled  now 
to  abandon  entirely.  I  do  not  regret  the  time  I  have 
spent  here,  for  I  am  not  far  from  the  centre  of  the 
territory  ;  and  while  I  have  my  head-quarters  at  a 
good  inn,  in  a  well-settled  place,  I  can,  in  a  ride  of 
a  few  miles,  plunge  at  once  into  the  wilderness. 
It  is  a  pretty  dangerous  matter,  however,  for  a 
stranger  to  go  without  a  guide  reconnoitring 
through  a  country  where  every  hill,  lake,  and 
wood  looks  so  much  like  its  brother  that  the  ordi- 
nary landmarks  are  of  no  assistance  to  the  eye. 
The  scenery  of  Michigan  will  be  far  more  attract- 


168  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

ive  when  cultivation  shall  have  given  variety  to  a 
landscape  which,  however  beautiful  at  present,  is 
somewhat  monotonous.  After  visiting  nearly  a 
dozen  of  the  transparent  ponds  of  every  size  which 
stud  the  surface  of  the  country,  and  finding  but  two 
or  three  whose  firm  banks  of  some  fifteen  or 
twenty  feet  elevation  assumed  a  picturesque  ap- 
pearance, from  the  irregular  manner  in  which  they 
pushed  their  beautifully  wooded  promontories  far 
into  the  lakes  they  bounded,  I  started,  the  other 
day,  to  visit  a  sheet  of  water  somewhat  elevated, 
about  twelve  miles  off.  My  way,  after  going  a 
mile  or  two  from  the  village,  led  through  oak  open- 
ings of  rolling  land,  called  "  the  Short  Hills,"  which 
I  can  best  assimilate  to  a  collection  of  enormous 
graves — the  tombs  of  households,  if  you  choose — 
thrown  confusedly  together  upon  a  perfectly  level 
surface  ;  where  a  patch  of  wild  meadow-land,  a 
cranberry  marsh,  or  a  bog  that  looked  like  the 
desolated  bed  of  a  lake,  and  frequently,  indeed,  the 
shallow  lake  itself,  filled  up  the  intervals.  The 
hu^e  oaks  that  crowned  the  summits  of  these 
formal  mounds  were  the  only  objects  that  relieved 
the  dreariness  of  the  landscape  ;  even  they,  I 
thought,  while  riding  alone  beneath  their  branches, 
that  sighed  to  the  December  wind,  were  not  the 
most  enlivening  objects  in  the  world.     I  rode  thus 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  169 

for  miles  without  seeing  a  living  thing  except  a 
raven,  which,  as  that  description  of  bird  is  only 
found  in  those  parts  of  the  Union  where  wolves 
still  infest  the  country,  I  at  once  took  it  for  granted 
was  hovering  near  one  of  the  savage  beasts  to 
which  he  so  faithfully  plays  the  jackal.  Wheeling 
my  horse  suddenly  from  the  trail  towards  a  thicket 
of  dwarf  oaks,  where  I  expected  to  find  the  car- 
rion deer  that  attracts  these  worthies,  he  shied 
from  the  bush,  and  I  was  thrown  upon  the  spot. 
After  extricating  the  foot,  by  which  I  was  dragged 
a  yard  or  two,  from  the  stirrup,  I  sprang  up  but 
little  hurt,  and  moved  as  quickly  as  possible  to 
catch  my  horse,  who,  having  paused  for  an  in- 
stant in  a  clump  of  trees  near  by,  turned  his  head 
round,  like  a  pointer  taken  aback  with  the  scent 
after  he  has  passed  a  bush,  and  stood  calmly  gaz- 
ing at  me.  At  the  first  step  towards  the  rascal, 
however,  he  moved  nearly  a  rod  sideways,  and 
then,  ducking  his  head  towards  the  ground,  and 
throwing  his  heels  high  in  the  air,  my  ungrateful 
courser,  accompanying  these  motions  with  every 
additional  mark  of  disrespect  he  could  summon  to 
his  aid,  left  his  master  alone  in  the  wilderness. 
He  disappeared  behind  a  hill  in  a  moment.  I 
could  not  help  ejaculating,  with  the  Kentuckian 
whose  house  and  family  had  been  burned  up  by  the 

VOL.  I. — P 


170  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

savages,  while  he  was  cleaning  his  rifle  at  a  brook 
hard  by — "  This  is  very  ridiculous"     No  time  was 
to  be  lost,  however.     It  was  late  in  the  day,  and  I 
was  far  from  any  house  ;  while  the  occasional  flakes 
of  snow  which  began  to  fall  from  the  black  lowering 
sky,  threatened  a  storm  which  might  cover  in  a  mo- 
ment the  only  path  that  could  guide  me  homeward. 
I  sat  down  at  once  among  the  long  dry  grass,  and 
stripping  off  my  leggings,  and  disembarrassing  my 
heels  of  the  now  useless  spurs,  stowed  all  away  in 
my  coat-pockets.     The  coat  itself  I  rolled  up  in  a 
bundle  around  my  left  arm,  and  taking  my  gun,  to 
which  I  applied  a  fresh  cap,  in  my  right,  I  strode 
off  in  as  good  a  humour  as  one  could  summon  under 
such  provoking  circumstances.     I  could  not  help 
thinking,  indeed,  how  much  worse  matters  might 
have  been  had  I  been  thus  deserted  in  one  of  the 
broad  prairies,  thirty  miles,  perhaps,  from  any  house. 
As  for  the  loss  of  my  horse,  I  felt  so  indignant 
against  the  inconsiderate  brute,  that,  I  confess,  it 
did  not  much  trouble  me.     Thus  did  I  trudge  on, 
growing  momentarily  in  better  humour  with  my- 
self.   The  scene  around  was  dreary  at  present ;  but 
having  had  all  the  wild  flowers  that  grow  in  Michi- 
gan described  to  me,  I  exercised  my  imagination 
by  conceiving  the  more  attractive  appearance  it 
must  wear  in  summer.     I  thought  how  the  brown 


\ 


A.     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  171 

woods  must  look  when  the  lofty  oaks  around  were 
clothed  in  their  deep-green  foliage.     I  thought  of 
the  various  vines  and  flowers  which  then  fill  the 
broad  openings  between  their  stems — of  the  clumps 
of  cluster-roses   that  here  grow  wild  and  cover 
whole  acres — of  the  crimson  daisy  and  fragrant 
balm  pink,  the  deep-hued  lichnidia,  and  gorgeous 
golden  rod,  which,  with  jonquils  and  amaranth,  the 
purple  fox-glove  and  saffron-coloured   silk-weed, 
paint  the  surface  of  the  soil.     I  could  fancy  the 
glossy  leaves  of  the   nightshade  with   its   white 
blossoms  and  poisonous  berries,  the  creeping  ivy, 
and  red  columbine,  clustering  at  the  base  of  the 
hills.     The  snow-white  lily  of  the  valley,  the  lilac- 
tinted  adder's-tongue,  and  straw-coloured  arrow- 
head, shooting  through   the  long  grass  between, 
while  the  purple  fleur-de-lis  bloomed  along  the  wet 
marshes,  where  the  splendid  cardinal-flower  tossed 
its  scarlet  blossoms  in  the  breeze. 

I  must  have  practised  horticulture  in  this  way  for 
some  time  when,  on  rising  a  slight  eminence  in  my 
path,  1  saw  my  amiable  roan  standing  quietly  look- 
ing in  the  direction  whence  I  was  coming,  appa- 
rently waiting  for  me.  I  was  completely  molli- 
fied. I  forgave  him  the  little  freak,  and  advanced 
with  a  light  heart  to  lay  my  hand  upon  the  bridle. 
He  moved  a  little,  and  so  did  I.     He  moved  a  little 


172  A     WINTER     IN    THE     WEST. 

more,  and  I  stood  still.  I  spoke  to  him,  but  he 
continued  moving.  I  coaxed  him,  in  a  tone  that 
would  have  melted  the  heart  of  one  of  the  marble 
horses  of  St.  Mark's  ;  he  was  moved  by  it — only 
farther  from  me.  I  whistled  to  him — (I  had  taught 
him  a  day  or  two  before  to  come  to  my  whistle, 
when  he  had  obeyed  me  like  a  dog) — he  stopped, 
and  I  advanced  once  more  to  lay  my  hand  on  the 
saddle,  and  the  scoundrel  broke  into  a  trot  just  as 
I  was  about  touching  him.  I  brought  my  piece  to 
rny  shoulder,  and  could  hardly  forbear  drawing  the 
trigger  upon  him  as  I  stood. 

The  ground  now  rolled  like  the  waves  of  a 
frozen  sea,  and  my  nefarious  brute,  who  soon 
began  to  stalk  leisurely  along  about  a  hundred 
yards  ahead  of  me,  would,  to  carry  out  the  figure, 
be  just  topping  the  combing  while  I  was  in  the 
trough,  and  vice  versa — like  two  children  balanc- 
ing on  a  plank.  It  was  perfectly  insufferable, 
mile  after  mile,  to  see  that  eternal  saddle  bobbing 
up  and  down  a  hundred  yards  ahead  of  me.  Some- 
times, indeed,  the  vexatious  wearer  would  step 
aside  among  a  cluster  of  oaks,  to  nip  the  tender 
grass  which  still  lingered  around  their  roots ;  and 
then,  as  he  would  arch  his  neck,  and,  seeming  to 
admire  the  Indian  blanket  and  flame-coloured  sur- 
cingle which,  after  the  gay  taste  of  the  West,  I  had 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  173 

buckled,  combining  use  with  ornament,  to  the  back 
of  the  ungrateful  brute,  dash  off  with  a  snort  into  a 
patch  of  prairie-land,  I  could  not  but  admire  the 
eye  of  fire  and  gracefully-gathering  limbs  of  the 
spirited  creature.  I  wished,  however,  that  he  was 
anybody's  horse  but  mine,  disporting  himself  at  that 
rate.  At  last,  at  a  turning  of  the  path  he  disap- 
peared behind  a  hill,  and  ceasing  longer  to  tanta- 
lize, left  me  comparatively  comfortable.  I  reached 
the  first  "clearing"  about  twenty  minutes  afterward, 
and  looking  along  the  highway  which  here  com- 
menced, my  horse  was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Tired 
alike  with  walking  and  vexation,  and  parched  with 
thirst  (I  had  neither  eaten  nor  drunk  since  breakfast, 
and  it  was  now  nightfall),  I  advanced  to  the  only 
shantee  near,  and  knocked  at  the  door.  There 
was  no  answer,  and  I  shook  it  violently.  A  rush- 
bottomed  chair  rattled,  and  a  cat,  the  solitary  oc- 
cupant, sprang  out  through  a  broken  window.  I 
soon  found  my  way,  however,  to  the  dilapidated 
trunk  of  a  large  sycamore-tree  near,  which  formed 
the  top  of  a  well,  and  drawing  up  a  moss-covered 
bucket,  I  placed  my  lips  to  the  rusty  iron-bound 
brim  and  took  a  draught,  to  which  the  most  deli- 
cious of  Lynch's  chateau  were  but  vile  vin-du-pays 
in  comparison.     I  can  remember  but  one  drink  in 

my  life  before  to  compare  with  it,  and  that  was 

p2 


1?4  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

from  a  similar  goblet,  after  other  lips  than  mine  had 
hallowed  the  brim.  A  few  moments  after  a  lad 
rode  into  the  yard  with  the  object  of  my  pursuit, 
whose  bridle  had  been  broken  to  pieces  in  the  effort 
of  several  men  to  catch  him  a  mile  or  two  off.  I 
was  mounted  in  a  moment,  and  regained  my  lodg- 
ings in  an  hour ;  when  I  found  that  the  adventure 
of  the  day  had  not  impaired  my  relish  for  a  supper 
of  fresh  pike  and  white-fish,  just  smoking  on  the 
table. 

The  range  of  hills  which  traverse  the  peninsula 
longitudinally  near  here,  though  never,  I  believe, 
more  than  150  feet  high,  are  said  by  some  to  con- 
stitute the  most  elevated  part  of  Michigan.  As 
they  abound  in  game,  and  consist  altogether  of  oak 
openings,  you  can  conceive  of  nothing  more  ani- 
mating than  to  gallop  over  them  on  horseback.  I 
was  out  again  among  them  yesterday  ;  and  having 
a  pocket-compass  and  a  map  of  the  country  with 
me,  I  ventured  to  leave  the  trails  that  wind  among 
the  hollows,  and  scamper  over  the  hills  as  my 
fancy  led  me.  A  large  flock  of  grouse  rose  almost 
from  beneath  my  horse's  feet  as  I  topped  the  first 
slight  eminence,  and  then,  just  as  the  animal  was 
recovering  from  the  flurry  into  which  the  rushing 
sound  of  their  wings  threw  him,  a  tall  broad- 
antlered  buck,  the  largest  I  ever  saw,  sprang  from 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  175 

a  small  covert,  and  bounded  through  the  wide 
forest  glades.  Away  too  I  went — the  feeling  was 
irresistible — I  could  see  the  fellow  leaping  as  if  he 
had  wings,  over  the  rolling  land,  and  the  clear 
bracing  atmosphere  had  given  spirits  to  my  horse, 
that  sent  us  ahead  like  one  and  the  same  animal. 
In  spite  of  the  deer's  prodigious  jumps,  which  were 
as  high  as  they  were  long,  I  had  gained  decidedly 
on  the  chase,  when,  coming  to  the  brow  of  a  steep 
hill,  he  dashed  down  the  side,  and  was  far  away 
over  another  before  my  less  agile  horse  could  de- 
scend the  first.  I  saw  two  more  deer,  besides 
several  flocks  of  grouse,  during  my  morning's  ride. 
Singularly  enough,  this  was  the  only  time  that  I  had. 
moved  a  mile  without  a  gun  since  I  left  New- York  ; 
and  it  was  the  only  opportunity  I  have  had  to  use 
one  to  advantage.  If  Der  Freyschutz  were  in  this 
region,  I  should  certainly  let  the  wild  huntsman 
make  his  own  terms  with  me  for  better  luck. 

To-day,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  the  meadows 
on  fire.  They  are  of  vast  extent,  running  far  into 
the  woods  like  the  friths  of  a  lake  ;  and  as  the  wild 
grass,  which  they  supply  in  the  greatest  profu- 
sion, furnishes  the  new  settler  with  all  the  hay  he 
uses  for  his  stock,  they  are  burnt  over  thus  annu- 
ally to  make  it  tender.  These  fires,  travelling  far 
over  the  country,  seize  upon  the  large  prairies,  and 


176  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST* 

consuming  every  tree  in  the  woods,  except  the 
hardiest,  cause  the  often-mentioned  oak  openings, 
so  characteristic  of  Michigan  scenery.  It  is  a 
beautiful  sight  to  see  the  fire  shooting  in  every 
direction  over  these  broad  expanses  of  land,  which 
are  kindled  at  a  variety  of  points.  The  flame  at 
one  moment  curls  along  the  ground,  and  seems  to 
lick  up  its  fuel  from  below,  while  at  the  next  it 
tumbles  over  like  the  breakers  of  the  sea  upon  the 
dried  grass,  and  sweeps  it  in  a  wave  of  fire  from 
the  ground.  I  found  myself  repeatedly  surrounded 
by  the  fire,  while  riding  hither  and  thither,  watch- 
ing its  progress ;  but  was  only  on  two  occasions 
exposed  to  any  inconvenience — once  when  my 
horse  was  bogged  to  the  saddle-girths,  so  that  I 
had  to  dismount  in  a  morass,  covered  with  high 
weeds,  to  which  the  flame  was  approaching,  and 
again  when  I  found  myself  in  a  small  patch  of 
woodland,  which  crackled  and  roared  like  Tophet 

itself. 

As  I  rode  to  and  fro  here,  trying  to  find  a  point 
where,  if  necessary,  I  might  encounter  the  flame  to 
the  least  disadvantage,  if  unable  to  avoid  it  alto- 
gether, the  ridiculous  position  in  which  I  had 
placed  myself  reminded  me  not  a  little  of  that 
which  Andrew  Fairservice  occupied  on  the  rock, 
when  he  trotted  hither  and  thither  on  his  narrow 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  177 

platform,  to  avoid  the  bullets  of  Rob  Roy's  cate- 
rans.  A  finer  subject  for  reflection,  however, 
presented  itself  near  the  spot.  A  small  brook 
crossed  the  meadow,  and  I  bethought  myself  of 
placing  it  between  me  and  the  fire,  which  was 
closing  undesirably  near  around  me  ;  but  my  horse, 
when  I  rode  him  rapidly  to  the  brink,  and  en- 
deavoured to  jump  him,  recoiled.  I  wheeled 
round,  and  tried  it  again  ;  but  his  recent  expe- 
rience in  the  treacherous  marsh  made  him  fear  the 
sedgy  margin,  and  nothing  could  prevail  upon  the 
cautious  animal  to  approach  it.  At  the  last  at- 
tempt, he  recoiled  so  suddenly  with  a  terrified 
snort,  that  I  was  nearly  thrown  over  his  head ; 
and  looking  for  the  new  cause  of  anxiety  where 
the  stream  wound  around,  so  as  almost  to  double 
itself  in  front  of  me  I  saw,  on  the  little  penin- 
sula of  the  burning  meadow  thus  formed,  an  Indian 
standing  with  folded  arms  amid  the  wreathing 
smoke,  and  surveying  my  motions  with  an  aspect 
of  perfect  calmness.  He  was  a  middle-aged  man, 
rather  tall,  and  in  the  full  costume  of  his  tribe. 
The  hair  on  his  forehead,  which  was  seamed  with 
several  ghastly  scars,  was  nearly  white ;  but  three 
long  plaited  locks  of  raven  black  fell  down  behind, 
from  the  crimson  handkerchief  which  bound  his 
brows.     He  wore  a  white  woollen   frock,  edged 


178  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

with  black,  with  scarlet  leggings  and  moccasins, 
while  armlets  of  silver,  and  a  belt  containing  his 
tomahawk  and  scalping-knife,  completed  his  equip- 
ments.    All  these,  however,  were  observed  after- 
ward, when  I  had  given  up  the  attempt  to  cross 
the  brook,  and  spurring  through  the  flame  where  it 
was  lowest,  had  placed  myself  by  the  side  of  the  old 
warrior.     But  for  the  present  I  remained  fixed  in 
my  seat,  gazing  on   the  noble  apparition  with  as 
much  delight  as  if  my  own  call   had   evoked  it 
from  the  ground.    I  had  seen  a  dozen  Indians,  of  all 
sizes  and  sexes,  in  the  course  of  the  day,  not  one  of 
whom  had  awakened  the  slightest  interest;  but  there 
was  that  about  the  port  and  bearing  of  this  grim-look- 
ing savage  which,  with  the  somewhat  theatrical  atti- 
tude he  assumed, and  the  circumstances  under  which 
I  first  beheld   him,  carried  me  away  completely. 
He  smiled  when  I  approached  him,  and  saluted 
me   with   great   kindness  of  manner  ;  though,  as 
neither   of   us   understood   the   language   of    the 
other,  there  could  be  but  little  interchange  of  ideas 
between  us.     The  few  Indian  expressions  of  which 
I  am  master  were  soon  expended,  and  he  seemed 
not   to   have   a  word   of  English  to  give  me  in 
exchange.     He  made    me  understand,   however, 
that  the  frightful  wounds  which  disfigure  his  noble 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  179 

front  were  received  while  fighting  on  the  side  of 
the  British  against  the  Americans  at  Sandusky. 

Grass  Lake,  Jackson  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  16. 

The  storm  of  yesterday  still  prevailed  when  I 
left  my  excellent  quarters  at  the  growing  little 
hamlet  of  Dexter,  to  find  my  way  towards  the 
country  watered  by  the  beautiful  Kekalamazoo.  I 
had  been  furnished  by  mine  host  with  a  map  of  the 
route  for  the  first  eight  or  ten  miles ;  and  it  would 
have  amused  you  to  see  me  occasionally  stopping 
in  a  furious  snow-storm  to  balance  my  pocket- 
compass  on  the  hasty  chart  thus  supplied.  I  found 
my  way,  however,  with  very  little  difficulty, 
through  a  thick  wood,  where  the  heavy  coat  of 
snow  that  robed  the  trees  gave  a  most  fantastic 
appearance  to  the  forest,  and  about  noon  I  struck 
the  Washtenaw  trail  to  the  west.  The  travelling, 
however,  was  any  thing  but  agreeable.  The  snow, 
being  soft,  would  "  ball,"  as  it  is  called,  beneath 
my  horse's  feet,  and  what  with  the  stumbling  and 
slipping  on  this  account,  I  have  been  unable  after 
a  day's  travel  to  make  more  than  twenty  miles. 
There  was  barely  light  enough  left  for  me  to  distin- 
guish my  way,  when  I  arrived  at  a  comfortable 
log-house  belonging  to  an  intelligent  and  hospitable 


180  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

farmer,  a  recent  emigrant  from  the  western  part 
of  the  sate  of  New- York.  The  owner  of  the 
dwelling  was  absent ;  and  it  was  not  till  after  a 
parley  of  some  minutes,  between  two  very  pretty 
women,  whom  I  could  distinguish  through  the  win- 
dow by  the  light  of  a  tempting-looking  fire  within, 
that  I  gained  admittance  to  pass  the  night.  Once 
there,  however,  nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness 
of  the  family  to  make  the  few  hours  of  my  sojourn 
pass  agreeable. 

Spring-Arbour,  Dec.  17. 

It  snowed  when  I  rose  at  dawn  this  morning ; 
but  my  hospitable  entertainer  of  last  night  in- 
sisted, after  an  early  breakfast,  upon  accompanying 
me  several  miles  on  my  journey ;  and  when  he 
finally  parted  with  me,  would  not  hear  of  receiving 
any  thing  in  compensation. 

The  snow  still  continues,  and  the  road  becom- 
ing worse  and  worse,  I  have  made  even  less  pro- 
gress to-day.  But  there  is  something  so  wild  and 
picturesque  in  the  country  through  which  I  am 
passing,  that  even  such  travelling  has  its  pleasures. 
I  have  counted  more  than  a  dozen  lakes  on  my 
route  ;  and  though  some  of  them  are  only  dreary- 
looking  pools,  covering  a  few  acres,  in  the  midst 
©f  an  extensive  moss-marsh,  yet  the  short  sudden 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  181 

hills  which  surround  others,  with  the  beautiful 
groves  of  white  oak  on  their  banks,  and  the  natural 
meadows  that  open  upon  their  mimic  friths,  make 
a  most  romantic  appearance.  I  came  unexpect- 
edly upon  a  travelling  band  of  Ottawas  this  morn- 
ing, in  one  of  the  most  abrupt  of  these  passes. 
They  were  returning  home  amply  furnished  with 
presents  from  the  recent  treaty  held  on  the 
Wabash ;  and  their  fluttering  blankets,  gleaming 
weapons,  and  gaudy  equipments  generally,  would 
have  made  them  a  fine  subject  for  a  painter,  as  a 
furious  squall  of  snow  swept  along  the  side-hill 
they  were  descending.  We  exchanged  the  custom- 
ary salutation,  "  Boju"  (probably  from  the  French 
bonjour),  and  passed  on. 

There  are  several  Indian  graves  immediately 
before  the  door  of  the  shantee  where  I  am  stopping 
for  the  night,  which  I  am  told  are  regularly  visited 
and  weeded  by  the  surviving  relatives  of  those 
here  buried.  My  host  has  had  the  good  taste  to 
put  a  fence  around  them,  to  keep  his  cattle  from 
the  spot — a  piece  of  attention  with  which  the  In- 
dians appeared  to  be  much  gratified  at  their  last 
visit ;  and  I  may  here  observe  that  the  settlers  of 
Michigan,  generally,  appear  to  treat  this  ill-fated 
race  with  a  degree  of  kindness  and  consideration 
that  might  well  be  imitated  in  other  sections  of  our 

VOL.  I. — Q 


182  A     WINTER    IN    THE     WEST. 

frontier.  This  morning  I  crossed  the  far-flowing 
Washtenong,  or  Grand  River,  near  the  new  vil- 
lage of  Jacksonburg ;  and  the  sight  of  its  clear 
smooth  waters  inspired  a  new  regret,  that  I  must 
abandon  my  original  intention  of  following  them 
down  to  the  last  trading-post. 

Forks  of  the  Kekalamazoo  (Calhoun),  Dec.  18. 

This  never-ending  storm  still  continues,  and  the 
trails,  where  not  incessantly  travelled,  being  now 
completely  covered  and  effaced,  I  lost  my  way  this 
morning,  and  wandered  several  miles  from  the 
track.  After  traversing  a  broad  marsh,  however, 
where  my  horse  seemed  loth  enough  to  venture,  I 
struck  a  burr-oak  opening,  and  found  my  way  by  the 
blazed*  trees  back  to  the  main  trail.  A  man  who 
is  used  to  it,  I  am  told,  can  get  along  very  well  in 
this  way  ;  but  you  can  imagine,  that  where  one  has 
frequently  to  cross  openings  of  some  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  in  width,  and  then  hunt  up  these 
primitive  guide-posts,  which  onl}7"  occur  at  long  in- 
tervals, and  have  their  slice  of  bark  taken  out  at 
either  side,  it  is  not  quite  so  easy  to  find  his  way  here 
especially  with  the  snow  blowing  full  in  his  face,  as 
if  walking  through  the  rectangular  streets  of  Phila- 

*  "  Blazed"  trees  are  marked  with  an  axe  or  hatchet,  to  desig- 
nate that  a  trail  runs  near  them. 


A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  183 

Jelphia.  It  took  me  three  hours  to  gain  six  miles  in 
this  way,  my  horse  slipping  and  floundering  at  al- 
most every  step.  But,  lost  as  I  was,  I  could  not  help 
pausing  frequently  when  I  struck  the  first  burr-oak 
opening  I  had  ever  seen,  to  admire  its  novel  beauty. 
It  looked  more  like  a  pear-orchard  than  any  thing 
else  to  which  I  can  assimilate  it — the  trees  being 
somewhat  of  the  shape  and  size  of  full-grown  pear- 
trees,  and  standing  at  regular  intervals  apart  from 
each  other  on  the  firm  level  soil,  as  if  planted  by 
some  gardener.  Here,  too,  I  first  saw  deer  in 
herds ;  and  half-frozen  and  weary  as  I  was,  the 
sight  of  those  spirited-looking  creatures  sweeping 
in  troops  through  these  interminable  groves,  where 
my  eye  could  follow  them  for  miles  over  the  smooth 
snowy  plain,  actually  warmed  and  invigorated  me, 
and  I  could  hardly  refrain  from  putting  the  rowels 
into  my  tired  horse,  and  launching  after  the  noble 
game. 

What  a  country  this  is.  Into  land  like  this, 
which  is  comparatively  undervalued  by  those  seek- 
ing to  settle  on  the  prairie,  a  man  can  run  his  plough 
without  felling  a  tree;  and,  planting  a  hundred 
acres,  where  he  would  clear  but  ten  in  the  unsettled 
districts  of  New-York,  raise  his  twenty-five  bushels 
of  wheat  to  an  acre  in  the  very  first  season.  "  How 
is  the  soil  here,  sir  ?"  said  I  to  a  farmer  whose  broad 


184  A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

fields,  though  but  a  year  under  cultivation,  looked 
as  if  they  had  been  tilled  for  ten.  "  A  pretty  good 
gravelly  loam  of  eighteen  inches  ;  but  I  think  some 
of  moving  off  to  Kalamazoo,  where  they  have  it 
four  feet  deep,  and  so  fat  that  it  will  grease  your 
fingers."  Railroads  and  canals  will  make  one 
broad  garden  of  Michigan  ;  and  even  now  there  is 
something  singularly  pleasing  to  light  upon  spots  in 
the  wildest  districts  which,  were  it  not  for  the  rude 
shantees  which  indicate  their  recent  settlement, — 
often  of  but  a  few  months  back, — might  be  mis- 
taken for  the  cultivated  farms  of  an  old  country. 
The  absence  of  stumps  in  the  land  under  cultiva- 
tion, and  the  open  groves  adjacent,  give  a  smiling 
openness  to  the  landscape  which,  with  the  my- 
riads of  wild  flowers  that  brighten  the  woods  in 
their  season,  must  make  the  aspect  of  the  country 
perfectly  delightful.  I  hardly  know,  though,  how 
some  of  your  city  elegants,  the  votaries  of  Del- 
monico,  or  the  fair  visitants  at  Gardiner's,  would 
meet  the  inconveniences  of  travelling  here.  As  for 
eating,  indeed,  they  might  manage  with  the  aid  of 
cranberry  sauce  to  rough  it  on  venison  and  wild 
honey,  backed  by  the  finest  potatoes  and  best  wheat 
bread  in  the  world  ;  but  I  think  that,  when  it  comes 
to  sleeping,  they  would  be  somewhat  posed  be- 
tween a  bed  in  the  bush  and  one  shared  with  the 


A     WINTER     IN     THE    WEST.  185 

hospitable  inmates  of  a  cabin,  whose  dormitory  for 
the  whole  family  is  often,  as  well  as  their  kitchen 
and  parlour,  comprised  in  a  single  room.  Were  it 
not  an  infraction  of  the  laws  of  hospitality,  I  could 
draw  some  queer  pictures  of  scenes  I  have  wit- 
nessed in  this  way. 

I  have  now  passed  the  central  region  where  the 
Eastern  and  Western  rivers  of  Michigan  have  their 
rise  ;  and  while  I  follow  down  the  pebbly  waters  of 
the  beautiful  Kekalamazoo  to  their  western  outlet, 
and  from  thence  pass  to  the  mouth  of  the  St. 
Joseph's,  you  must  not  expect  the  same  regularity 
in  my  correspondence  that  I  have  hitherto  at- 
tempted to  preserve. 


q2 


186  A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 


LETTER  XV. 

Marshall,  Calhoun  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec. 

I  confess  that  it  was  with  some  pleasure  that — 
after  dividing  my  time  for  several  days,  as  de- 
scribed in  my  last,  between  roads  rendered  almost 
impassable  by  continual  snows  and  log-cabins, 
where  the  recent  settler,  however  hospitable,  had 
but  spare  accommodation  to  offer  to  the  passing 
traveller — on  rising  an  elevation  on  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Kekalamazoo,  I  saw  a  large  frame-build- 
ing, which  was  evidently  an  inn,  rearing  its  comfort- 
able-looking chimneys  above  a  group  of  log-huts  on 
the  plain  beneath.  My  horse,  who  had  doubtless 
repented  of  former  escapadoes  in  the  companion- 
able intercourse  which  had  now  for  some  time 
subsisted  between  us,  seemed  to  sympathize  in  the 
feeling  ;  and  pricking  up  his  ears,  as  he  snuffed  the 
grain  in  a  flour-mill  directly  beneath  us,  we  de- 
scended the  slippery  height,  and  were  soon  toler- 
ably well-housed  in  the  new  inn  of  Marshall.  The 
house  was,  indeed,  not  as  yet  plaistered  inside  ;  and 
the   different   bed-rooms,  though   lathed,   seemed 


A     WINTER     IN     THE      WEST.  187 

divided  from  each  other  by  lines  rather  imaginary 
than  real ;  but  the  bar-room  wore  already  the  in- 
signia of  a  long-established  inn  in  an  old  com- 
munity; and  apprized  me  at  once,  by  the  pla- 
carded sheriffs'  notices  and  advertisements  for 
stolen  horses,  grain  to  be  sold,  and  labourers 
wanted,  which  indicate  the  growth  of  business  in 
country  life,  that  society  was  in  a  pretty  mature 
state — at  least  six  months  old — in  the  county  town 
of  Marshall.  I  was,  therefore,  not  at  all  surprised 
to  find  among  these  notices  a  call  for  k'a  rail- 
road meeting"  in  the  evening,  especially  as  nearly 
eighteen  months  had  elapsed  since  the  first  white 
man  erected  his  cabin  in  this  section  of  the 
country. 

The  meeting,  which  might  be  termed  a  crowded 
one,  was  conducted  with  more  animation  than 
unanimity.  There  were  several  intelligent  men 
present,  however;  and  I  listened  with  interest 
to  their  exposition  of  the  resources  of  this  section 
of  Michigan,  which,  as  a  wheat  growing  country, 
may  be  justly  compared  to  the  celebrated  Genessee 
valley  of  New- York,  while  the  soil,  as  I  have  heard 
it  well  observed  by  a. resident,  "  unlike  the  heavily- 
timbered  land  of  the  Eastern  States,  instead  of 
wearing  out  one  generation  in  subduing  it  for  the 
purposes  of  the  husbandman,  invites  the  plough  at 


188  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

once."  Nor,  if  a  rail-road  should  be  constructed 
from  Detroit  to  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Joseph's  pass- 
ing through  the  counties  of  Wayne,  Washtenaw, 
Jackson,  Calhoun,  Kalamazoo,  Van  Buren,  and 
Berrien,  do  I  think  it  would  be  too  bold  to  assert 
that  the  amount  to  be  transported  by  the  time  the 
wTork  was  completed  would  be  equal  to  one  million 
of  barrels,  which  is  a  less  estimate  by  two  hundred 
thousand  than  I  have  seen  given  by  an  intelligent 
writer  on  this  subject  in  a  Detroit  paper.  The 
route  thus  designated,  I  am  persuaded,  is  the  right 
one  for  a  rail-road ;  though,  should  a  different 
mode  of  communication  be  determined  upon,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  decide  whether  it  were  most 
expedient  to  construct  a  canal  from  the  falls  of 
Grand  River  to  Detroit,  or  from  the  navigable 
waters  of  the  St.  Joseph's  to  Monroe.  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  add,  that  before  two  years  have  ex- 
pired, all  of  these  routes  will  be  under  contract. 
The  abundant  resources  of  Michigan  are  de- 
veloping so  rapidly,  that  they  will  shortly  require 
all  these  outlets  ;  and  in  a  country  where  you  may 
drive  a  barouche-and-four  for  hundreds  of  miles  in 
any  direction  through  the  woods,  the  expense  of 
constructing  more  artificial  ways  will  be  com- 
paratively trivial. 

Did  I   not  know  how  ignorant   generally  the 


A    WINTER    IN    THE    WEST.  189 

people  of  the  east  are  of  the  resources  and  con- 
dition of  this  country,  it  would  surprise  me  that 
some  New- York  capitalists  have  not  embarked 
in  some  of  these  works.  A  tempting  speculation 
might  be  realized  by  laying  out  a  rail-road  on  one 
of  these  routes  above  described ;  having  first  pur- 
chased the  land  in  its  vicinity  at  government  prices, 
to  be  disposed  of  afterward  when  its  value  should 
be  enhanced  by  the  completion  of  different  sections 
of  the  work.  The  ingenious  writer,  above  alluded 
to,  has  already  suggested  this  mode  of  covering  the 
expense  of  such  an  undertaking.  You  can  have 
no  idea  of  the  feeling  existing  on  the  subject  of  in- 
ternal communications  throughout  Michigan ;  and 
it  would  amuse  you  not  a  little  to  witness  the 
heart-burnings  and  jealousies  on  the  subject  which 
pervade  a  country  but  just  beginning  to  be  peo- 
pled. The  rapidity  with  which  people  establish 
themselves  and  collect  the  indications  of  agricul- 
tural wealth  around  them,  before  they  have  even 
the  ordinary  comforts  of  life,  will,  in  a  great  meas- 
ure, account  for  their  looking  thus  ahead  and 
quarrelling  about  the  game  before  it  is  hunted 
down.  The  farmer,  who  has  more  grain  in  the 
sheaf  stacked  in  the  field  than  he  can  accommo- 
date in  his  barn,  is  naturally  more  eager  to  find  the 
means  of  sending  a  share  of  it  to  market. 


190  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

I  was  quite  diverted  at  the  turn  matters  took  at 
the  meeting  which  suggested  these  remarks,  when 
a  discussion  in  relation  to  the  various  routes  to  be 
recommended  to  government  in  case  they  should 
consent  to  make  a  railroad  through  the  Peninsula, 
became  unpleasantly  warm.  "  This  pother  re- 
minds me,  Mr.  Chairman,"  said  an  old  pioneer,  "  of 
two  trappers  who,  in  planning  a  spearing  expe- 
dition for  the  next  day,  quarrelled  about  the  manner 
in  which  a  turtle,  which  they  proposed  taking, 
should  be  cooked  for  their  supper,  after  the  day's 
sport  was  over.  An  old  Indian  happily  settled  the 
difficulty,  by  proposing  that  they  should  first  catch 
the  turtle!  Now,  sir,  as  this  railroad," — *  the  case 
is  not  at  all  parallel' — interrupted  a  still  more 
ancient  speaker,  "  for  Nature  has  already  caught 
the  turtle  for  us.  She  meant  the  railroad  to  pass 
right  along  here,  and  nowhere  else." 

The  councils  of  the  meeting  were  not  on  the 
whole  so  harmonious  as  I  could  have  wished  from 
the  courtesies  offered  me  after  its  termination  by 
the  adherents  of  the  two  parties  of  Guelphs  and 
Ghibbelines,  which  distract  the  unhappy  city  of 
Marshall ;  but  it  was  surprising  to  a  stranger,  upon 
looking  round  at  the  hovels  of  mud  and  logs  which 
as  yet  occupy  its  site,  to  find  so  many  persons  of  in- 
telligence and  refinement  thus  collected  within  their 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  191 

precincts.  The  population  of  Michigan  generally, 
— as  I  believe  I  have  before  observed, — is  much 
superior  in  character  to  the  ordinary  settlers  of  a 
new  country.  The  ease  with  which  a  man  can 
here  support  a  family  as  a  farmer,  induces  a  great 
many  persons  of  all  professions,  in  other  states,  to 
abandon  their  former  pursuits  and  become  tillers 
of  the  soil.  The  alteration  of  life,  I  should  judge 
by  the  contentment  I  everywhere  witness,  is  almost 
always  for  the  better. 

I  have  met  with  several  dispeptics  who  have 
been  completely  cured  of  that  horrible  disease  by 
their  change  of  life.  With  such,  health  is  a  sensa- 
tion— a  positive  delight ;  and  in  duly  estimating 
the  blessing,  they  of  course  were  ever  ready  to 
praise  the  conditions  upon  which  they  enjoy  it. 
Others  again,  bred  up  in  a  city,  find  in  the  indul- 
gence of  that  love  of  rural  life  which,  when  it  is  a 
natural  taste,  is  inextinguishable,  an  ample  com- 
pensation for  breaking  up  established  habits  and 
associations.  The  majority  again  are  men  of 
slender  means ;  and  while  the  necessity  of  attend- 
ing practically  to  the  subsistence  of  their  families 
keeps  them  employed,  the  want  of  pecuniary  re- 
sources prevents  their  embarking  in  the  thousand 
idle  schemes  which  tend  so  often  to  the  chagrin 
and  the  ruin  of  "gentlemen  farmers."  IBut  the 


192  A    WINTER    IN     THE    WEST. 

main  cause  of  Michigan  being  settled  by  such  re- 
spectable people  remains  yet  to  be  mentioned..  It 
is,  that  no  one  can  take  up  an  acre  of  land  without 
first  paying  cash  for  it,  at  one  of  the  three  land- 
offices  of  the  territory.  The  whole  surface  of  the 
Peninsula  has  either  been,  or  is  now  being,  sur- 
veyed into  townships  of  six  miles  square.  These 
again  are  sub-divided  into  sections  of  a  mile  square ; 
which  sections  are  again  cut  up  into  lots  of  forty 
acres  ;  which  is  the  smallest  quantity  of  land  that 
can  be  taken  up  from  the  government.  The  price 
is  invariably  $1  25  an  acre.  When  you  consider, 
therefore,  that  every  emigrant  who  means  to  locate 
(this  is  a  sound  American  word,  and  as  indispen- 
sable in  the  vocabularv  of  a  western  man  as  are 
an  axe  and  a  rifle  among  his  household  furniture), 
must,  however  poor,  have  some  earnings  in  ad- 
vance to  purchase  the  spot  upon  which  he  is  to 
live,  and  to  bring  his  familv  to  such  a  remote  dis- 
tance,  it  will  be  easy  to  conceive  that  the  indus- 
trious and  the   enterprising   must   constitute   the 

Margest  portion  of  such  a  population  of  freeholders. 
The  prosperity  of  a  whole  community,  composed 

'  of  such  aggregate  masses,  may  be  safely  predicted  ; 
and  though  one  sometimes  meets  with  those  whom 
the  first  process  of  accumulating  renders  discon- 
tented, and  induces  to  speak  ill  of  the  country,  yet 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  193 

in  general  I  may  say,  that  the  pride  of  a  Michi- 
ganian,  in  the  beautiful  land  of  his  adoption,  is  as 
strong  as  the  home-feeling  upon  which  the  citizens 
of  some  of  the  older  States  pique  themselves.  As 
for  the  sickness  which  always  prevails  more  or 
less  among  the  new  settlers,  to  one  who  is  aware 
of  their  imprudences  the  wonder  is  that  the  ma- 
jority of  them  escape  with  their  lives.  Think  but 
of  people  setting  themselves  down  on  a  soil  of 
twenty  inches  in  depth,  and  in  the  month  of  June, 
when  the  weeds  and  wild  flowers  o'ertop  the  head 
of  the  tallest  man,  turning  over  the  rank  soil  imme- 
diately around  their  dwellings,  and  allowing  the 
accumulation  of  vegetable  decomposition  to  be 
acted  upon  by  a  vertical  sun,  and  steam  up  for 
months  under  their  very  nostrils;  and  yet  this,  I 
am  told,  is  continually  practised  by  settlers  who 
come  in  late  in  the  season,  and  are  anxious  still  to 
have  a  crop  the  first  year.  Here,  as  in  the  case 
of  those  settlers  who,  for  the  sake  of  the  wild  hay, 
locate  themselves  near  the  great  marshes,  impru- 
dence alone  is  manifested  ;  but  the  charge  of  culpa- 
bility will  justly  attach  to  some  other  cases,  when 
nuisances,  not  before  existing,  are  created  by  the 
owners  of  property.  I  allude  to  the  practice, 
expressly  prohibited  by  the  laws  of  Michigan,  of 
flooding  land  while  constructing  mill-ponds,  with- 

VOL.  I. — R 


194  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

out  removing  the  green  timber  growing  upon  the 
spot.  So  pernicious  is  this  to  the  health  of  the 
neighbourhood,  that  it  affects  very  sensibly  the 
value  of  property  near  the  new  pond  ;  and  yet,  in 
their  eagerness  to  have  mills  erected,  and  aid  the 
market  of  their  overflowing  granaries,  the  new  in- 
habitants overlook  entirely  the  gross  violation  of 
their  laws,  and  the  melancholy  consequences  which 
ensue  to  their  families.  Another  cause  of  sickness 
is  drinking  the  water  of  springs  or  rivers  which 
rise  in  marshes,  and  are  of  course  impregnated 
with  their  baleful  properties,  instead  of  digging 
wells  where  water  is  not  liable  to  such  exception. 
As  for  general  healthfulness  of  situation,  I  believe 
it  is  agreed  that  the  banks  of  the  small  lakes  which 
so  abound  in  the  peninsula  are — when  these  trans- 
parent bodies  of  water  are  surrounded  by  a  sand- 
beach,  which  is  the  case  with  about  a  third  of 
them — among  the  healthiest.  They  are  fed  gene- 
rally by  deep  springs,  and  in  many  instances  are 
supposed  to  have  a  subterranean  outlet ;  while  so 
beautifully  transparent  are  their  waters,  that  the 
canoe  suspended  on  their  bosom  seems  to  float  in 
mid-air.  These  lakes  abound  with  fish ;  and  in  some 
of  them,  of  only  a  few  acres  in  extent,  fish  have 
been  taken  of  forty  pound  s  weight.  They  generally 
Vie  imbosomed  in  the  oak  openings,  and  with  their 


A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  195 

regular  and  almost  formal  banks  crowned  with 
open  groves,  these  silver  pools  might  be  readily 
taken  for  artificial  trout- ponds  in  a  cultivated 
park.  I  need  hardly  add,  that  it  is  necessary  to 
diverge,  as  I  have,  from  the  route  generally  trav- 
elled, to  see  these  scenic  gems,  so  numerous,  lonely, 
and  beautiful.  Not  one  in  a  hundred  has  a  settler 
on  its  banks ;  and  I  confess  I  take  a  singular  pleasure 
in  surveying  these  beauties,  as  yet  unmarred  by 
the  improving  axe  of  the  woodman,  and  unprofaned 
by  the  cockney  eyes  of  city  tourists ;  nor  would  I 
change  my  emotions,  while  ranging  alone  over  the 
broad  meadows,  traversing  the  lofty  forests,  or 
loitering  by  the  limpid  lakes  of  Michigan,  for  the 
proudest  musings  of  the  scholar  who  revels  in 
classic  land.  It  may  argue  a  want  of  refinement 
in  taste,  but  I  confess  that  a  hoary  oak  is  to  me 
more  an  object  of  veneration  than  a  mouldering 
column ;  and  that  I  would  rather  visit  scenes 
where  a  human  foot  has  never  trod  than  dwell 
upon  those  gilded  by  the  most  arrogant  associa- 
tions of  our  race. 

What  are  the  temples  which  Roman  robbers 
have  reared, — what  are  the  towers  in  which  feudal 
oppression  has  fortified  itself, — what  the  blood- 
stained associations  of  the  one,  or  the  despotic 
superstitions  of  the  other,  to  the  deep  forests  which 


196  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

the  eye  of  God  has  alone  pervaded,  and  where 
Nature,  in  her  unviolated  sanctuary,  has  for  ages 
laid  her  fruits  and  flowers  on  his  altar  !  What  is 
the  echo  of  roofs  that  a  few  centuries  since  rung 
with  barbaric  revels,  or  of  aisles  that  pealed  the 
anthems  of  painted  pomp,  to  the  silence  which  has 
reigned  in  these  dim  groves  since  the  first  fiat  of 
Creation  was  spoken  ! 

I  shall  diverge  from  my  western  course  to-mor- 
row a  few  miles  southward,  in  order  to  visit  a 
group  of  lakes,  near  which  a  band  of  Pottawatta- 
mies,  a  tribe  I  have  not  yet  seen,  have  their  en- 
campment. I  will  leave  this  letter  open,  in  order 
to  give  you  the  result  of  my  visit. 

Calhoun  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  23. 

I  write  to  you  from  a  little  cottage  in  a  beautiful 
grove,  not  far  from  the  banks  of  the  Kekalamazoo, 
where  two  young  gentlemen,  recently  from  the 
east,  have  made  their  home  in  this  land  of  en- 
terprise. It  is  amusing  to  observe  how  little 
singularity  people  here  attach  to  a  mode  of  life 
which,  in  older  countries,  would  be  looked  upon 
as  highly  eccentric.  My  entertainers  are  both 
young  lawyers,  liberally  educated,  and  unused 
to  privation ;  and  yet  the  house  in  which  I  am 
passing  the  night,  with  every  article  of  furniture 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  197 

it  contains,  is  of  their  own  manufacture ;  a  saw, 
an  axe,  a  wood-knife,  and  a  jack-plane  being  their 
only  tools.  It  would  amuse  you  not  a  little  to 
look  through  the  window,  and  see  our  group  at 
this  moment.  One  of  my  companions,  whose  axe 
and  rifle  are  suspended  by  wooden  hooks  to  the 
rafters  over  his  head,  is  professionally  engaged  in 
drawing  a  declaration  at  the  table  upon  which  I 
am  writing  ;  while  the  other,  having  just  got 
through  removing  the  remains  of  our  game  dinner, 
prepared  and  cooked  by  his  chum,  is  now  sitting 
with  a  long  pipe  in  his  mouth,  watching  a  coffee- 
pot, which  steams  up  so  fragrantly  from  the  live 
embers,  that  no  light  consideration  would  induce 
me  to  part  with  the  interest  I  have  in  its  contents. 
Their  house,  which  has  been  thus  occupied  for 
three  months,  is  a  perfect  pattern  of  neatness; 
though,  as  it  consists  of  but  a  single  room,  no  little 
ingenuity  is  required  to  arrange  their  books,  house- 
keeping apparatus,  and  sporting  equipments,  so  as 
to  preserve  even  an  appearance  of  order  in  such  a 
bandbox.  They  have  already  sufficient  business, 
they  tell  me,  to  sustain  their  moderate  household ; 
and  as  the  Indians  supply  them  with  abundance 
of  provisions,  they  have  ample  leisure  to  devote  to 
study. 

It  is  not  very  uncommon,  however,  to  meet  thus 

s9 


198  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST, 

with  persons  of  education,  and  some  accom- 
plishment, under  as  humble  a  roof  as  this  in  the 
wilds  of  Michigan.  For  so  rapid  is  the  growth 
of  society  here,  that  he  who  aims  at  a  prominent 
station  in  the  new  community  must  be  a  pioneer 
far  in  advance  of  the  growing  settlements.  Two 
years  ago  the  first  wrhite  man  raised  his  log  hut  in 
the  county  of  Calhoun  ;  it  has  now  a  population  of 
1500,  and  I  have  passed  an  evening  in  at  least  one 
mud-plastered  cabin,  whose  fair  and  elegant  in- 
mates would  grace  any  society. 

When  I  see  the  wives  and  daughters  of  men 
habituated  by  early  education  to  all  the  com- 
forts of  refined  life,  thus  submitting  cheerfully 
to  every  privation  for  the  sake  of  those  whose 
happiness  is  involved  with  theirs,  I  cannot  help 
calling  to  mind  the  jargon  of  novels  so  often 
adopted  by  people  of  sense  in  cities,  where  the 
terms  "  excellent  match,"  and  "  supporting  in 
the  station  where  she  has  been  accustomed  to 
move,"  usurp  all  considerations  of  mutual  affec- 
tion, and  capability  in  the  parties  united  to  study 
each  other's  happiness  through  life.  I  am  more 
than  ever  persuaded  that  there  are  two  kinds  of 
refinement  in  life,  which  bear  but  little  similarity  to 
each  other  ;  and  the  one  least  often  met  with  is  that 


A     WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  199 

which  is  independent  of  modes  and  fashions,  of 
tailors,  milliners,  and  cabinet-makers, — which  does 
not  necessarily  lean  upon  a  pier-table,  nor  repose 
upon  a  chaise  tongue, — which — shall  I  confess  it  ? — 
may  be  nursed  without  a  silver  fork.  The  purest 
porcelain  which  the  factories  of  China  produce 
does  not  require  a  single  tint  upon  its  surface  to 
show  the  fineness  of  the  texture  ;  but  that  in  which 
coarser  clay  is  blended  is  always  charged  with 
some  gaudy  hue  to  hide  the  intermixture  of  the 
mongrel  material.  This  doctrine,  though,  is  so 
little  in  accordance  with  those  taught  in  those  Eng- 
lish novels  which  constitute  the  modern  text-books 
of  elegance,  that  while  the  mode  of  eating  an  egg 
is  the  test  of  good-breeding,  and  the  art  of  patter- 
ing French  phrases  the  criterion  of  intellectual 
cultivation,  I  should  as  soon  think  of  interfering  with 
the  particular  province  of  a  lackey  or  friseur,  as 
of  breaking  a  spear  at  such  disadvantage  with  the 
authors  of"  Almack's"  and  "  Men  and  Manners — '\ 
But  a  truce  to  this  prosing.  Did  you  ever  see 
a  jumper  ?  A  couple  of  hickory  poles  so  bent  that 
the  runners  and  shafts  are  of  the  same  piece,  with 
a  crate  placed  on  four  props,  complete  this 
primitive  species  of  sledge  ;  and  when  the  crate  is 
filled  with  hay,  and  the  driver  well  wrapped-up  in 
a  buffalo  robe,  the  "  turn-out"  is  about  as  comfort- 


200  A     WINTER    IN    THE    WEST. 

able  a  one  as  a  moderate  man  could  wish.  In  such 
a  vehicle  as  this,  with  a  harness  every  way  suit- 
able, viz.  a  collar  of  undressed  deerskin  and  reins 
of  rope  (the  twisted  bark  of  trees  is  often  used), 
did  I,  with  one  of  my  present  entertainers,  the  first 
companion  I  have  yet  had  in  travelling,  sally  out 
from  Marshall  this  morning.  My  horse,  who  had 
detained  me  there  a  couple  of  days  by  a  soreness 
of  his  back  proceeding  from  the  saddle,  seemed 
highly  to  approve  of  this  new  mode  of  travel : 
Mr.  Osbaldistone  behind  Tom  Thumb,  Sesostris 
in  his  chariot,  or  Yorke  in  one  of  Brower's  new 
omnibuses,  could  not  have  dashed  off  with  more 
glee  than  did  we  with  our  merry  jumper  along  the 
dimpling  waters  of  the  Kekalamazoo ;  when,  lo ! 
just  as  we  had  crossed  a  bridge  of  unhewn  timber, 
and  were  under  full  way  through  the  oak  openings, 
our  frail  bark  struck  on  a  rock  hidden  by  the  snow, 
and  wre  were  capsized  and  wrecked  in  an  instant. 
Fortunately,  though  both  were  pitched  like  a  couple 
of  quoits  from  the  machine,  we  were  neither  of  us 
hurt ;  and  my  companion  returning  to  the  settle- 
ment to  borrow  a  horse,  I  mounted  mine,  and 
leaving  the  remains  of  my  crank  establishment 
where  chance  had  thrown  them,  I  rode  on,  while 
he  overtook  me  in  time  to  introduce  me  to  his 
friend,  and  make  me  so  pleasantly  at  home  in  their 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  201 

dwelling  as,  you  must  observe,  I  now  am.  Good- 
night ;  I  will  tell  you  to-morrow  evening  how  we 
dispose  of  our  time  till  then. 

*  December  24th. 

The  air  was  mild  this  morning,  and  large  flocks 
of  snow-birds  twittering  among  the  bur-oaks,  with 
jays  screaming  from  the  woods,  and  packs  of 
grouse  rising  continually  before  us  in  the  open- 
ings, made  our  route  to  the  camp  of  Warpkesick, 
a  Pottawattamie  chieftain,*  more  like  a  ride  in  the 
spring-time  than  a  winter  excursion.  I  was  ac- 
companied by  my  companion  of  yesterday  ;  and 
as  we  were  both  well-mounted,  we  galloped  over 
the  openings  towards  Lyon  Lake,  at  a  rate  that 
brought  us  in  a  few  minutes  to  the  white  sand- 
beach  which  fringes  that  beautiful  water.  The 
marks  of  an  Indian  trail  were  here  easily  discerni- 
ble;  and  following  the  foot-marks  dashed  in  the 
yielding  sand,  the  frequent  print  of  moccasins  soon 
led  us  again  away  from  the  shore  into  a  tall  wood 
beyond.  A  morass,  that  shook  for  yards  around 
as  our  horsed  hoofs  encountered  the  sagging 
peat,  was  next  to  be  crossed  ;  and  then  passing 
between  two  small  lonely-looking  lakes,  where  a 
tall  pine  or  two  lifted  its  sweeping  cone  above  the 

*  See  note  E. 


202  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

tapering  tamaracks  around,  we  struck  at  last  into 
a  dense  forest.  Here  the  numerous  deer-runways, 
with  the  flocks  of  wild  turkeys,  and  innumerable 
tracks  of  rackoons,  wolves,  and  bears,  showed  us 
that  we  were  upon  a  favourite  hunting-ground  of 
the  Pottawattamies.  As  for  the  wolves,  they  are 
little  disturbed  by  the  Indians,  who  consider  them 
fair  hunters  like  themselves,  and  privileged  to  go 
unmolested.  They  generally  abound  around  a 
hunting-camp  ;  and  soon  grow  fat  on  the  offals  of 
game  slaughtered  near  it.  But  bears,  though  the 
successful  hunter  invariably  takes  his  dead  quarry 
by  the  paw,  calls  him  his  grandfather,  and  asks  his 
pardon  for  killing  him,  "  being  compelled  to  it  by 
necessity,"*  are  hunted  with  great  avidity;  and  you 
generally  find  a  tamarack  swamp,  the  favourite 
covert  of  these  animals,  in  the  vicinitv  of  a  hunt- 
ing-camp. 

We  had  ridden  for  about  a  mile  through  the 
heavily  timbered  land,  when  reaching  the  banks 
of  the  Nottawaseepe,  a  branch  of  the  St.  Joseph's, 
I  heard  the  sound  of  children's  voices,  and  descried 
two  or  three  red  urchins  wading  through  the  shallow 
stream  on  stilts,  while  others  of  a  similar  age  were 
amusing  themselves  in  shooting  bows  and  arrows 
on  the  opposite  side.     We  immediately  forded  the 

*  See  note  F. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  203 

stream,   and    making    our    way   into   a   swamp, 
where  the  horses  sank  to  the  knee  at  every  step, 
came  unexpectedly  upon  a  piece  of  firm  ground, 
some  eighty  yards  in  diameter,  and  found   our- 
selves in  the  middle  of  the  camp  of  Warpkesick. 
It    was    composed   of   three    or   four   wigwams 
only,  but  they  were  large,  and  probably  contained 
several  families  each.     They  were  constructed  of 
mats,  arranged  precisely  in  the  form  of  a  tent,*  and 
supported  in  the  same  manner,  an  opening  being 
left  in  the  centre  for  the  escape  of  the  smoke,  and  a 
blanket   suspended  over  a  hole   cut   in   the   side, 
supplying  the   place  of  a  door.     The  day  being 
mild  for  the  season  of  the  year,  the  indwellers  of 
these  simple  habitations  were,  at  the  moment  of 
our  arrival,  variously  occupied  in  several  groups 
on  the  outside.     Some  of  the  men  were  cleaning 
their    weapons,    and    others    were    arranging    a 
bundle  of  muskrat  traps ;  while  one  old  fellow, 
whose  screwed-up  features,  peering  from  under 
a   mass   of  grizzly  locks,  indicated   the   cunning 
of  the  trapper,  rather  than  the  boldness  of  the 
hunter,  was  occupied  in  flaying  an  otter  but  just 
taken.     The  women  alone,  however,  appeared  to 

*  The  Ottawas  have  a  somewhat  different  form  for  their  wig- 
wams.    See  note  G. 


I 


204  A    WINTER    IN    THE    "WEST. 

be  assiduously  engaged — the  men  having  all  a 
lounging  air  of  indolence,  incompatible  with  the 
idea  of  actual  employment:  pressing  skins  was 
the  occupation  of  the  former ;  and  they  sat 
grouped  each  like  a  hare  in  its  form  around  a  col- 
lection of  boiling  kettles,  over  which  the  skins 
were  suspended. 

A  tall  virago  of  fifty,  whose  erect  stature,  elf 
locks,  and  scarlet  blanket  floating  about  her  person 
would  entitle  her  to  flourish  as  Meg  Merrilies  in 
the  frontispiece  of  Guy  Mannering,  stood  up  in 
the  midst ;  and  had  it  not  been  for  some  tolerably 
pretty  faces  among  her  junior  colaborators,  might 
have  been  taken  for  Hecate  herself,  surrounded  by 
the  weird  sisters  of  the  caldron.  A  pack  of 
wolfish-looking  curs,  about  twenty  in  number,  com- 
pleted the  assemblage  ;  which,  when  you  take  into 
consideration  the  variously  coloured  calico  dresses 
and  wampum  ornaments  in  which  the  females 
had  arrayed  themselves,  with  the  white,  blue,  red, 
and  green  blankets  in  which  the  men  were  wrapped, 
constituted  about  as  motley  a  collection  as  ever 
followed  FalstafF  to  the  field.  Warpkesick  him- 
self, the  chief  of  the  gipsy  band,  issued  from  his 
lodge  while  I  was  thus  studying  the  appearance  of 
his  adherents.  He  was  a  young  man,  not  more 
than  thirty,  with  a  handsome  though  somewhat 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  205 

voluptuous  cast  of  countenance  and  remarkably 
fine  eyes.  His  stature  was  rather  below  the  middle 
size  ;  and  though  the  upper  part  of  his  person  was 
extremely  well  formed,  with  a  deep  chest  and 
broad  flat  shoulders,  one  of  his  legs,  whether  from 
deformity  or  misfortune  I  did  not  like  to  inquire, 
was  so  twisted  under  his  bodv  as  to  be  worse  than 
useless.  He  supported  himself  upon  an  ashen 
staff  about  eight  feet  in  length,  and  terminating  at 
the  bottom  in  a  round  ball,  to  prevent  it,  probably, 
from  sinking  too  deeply  into  the  earth  while  in 
rapid  pursuit  of  game  ;  the  chief  being,  in  spite  of 
the  unsightly  encumbrance  he  is  compelled  to  drag 
after  him,  when  bounding  like  a  stricken  panther 
on  his  prey,  one  of  the  keenest  hunters  of  his  tribe. 
He  received  us  courteously,  but  remained  standing ; 
while  several  Indians  gathered  in  a  few  moments 
around  him  :  after  shaking  hands  with  them  all  in 
succession,  I  took  up  a  loaded  gun,  and  by  way  of 
breaking  up  the  formality  of  the  meeting,  desired 
an  eagle-eyed  young  Indian  to  make  a  shot  with 
it.  He  hesitated  for  a  moment  to  comply,  and 
immediately  all  the  others,  from  some  whim  or 
other,  insisted  that  I  should  shoot.  Our  conversa- 
tion being  altogether  in  signs,  it  was  some  mo- 
ments before  I  understood  their  gestures;  and  I 
confess,  that    having  but  little   practice  with  a 

VOL.  I. — S 


-» 


206  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

single  ball,  I  was  any  thing  but  unembarrassed 
when  I  came  to  understand  the  purport  of  the 
request  they  were  proffering  with  so  much  anima- 
tion. A  small  blaze  that  was  instantly  made  with 
a  tomahawk  in  a  sapling,  forty  or  fifty  yards  dis- 
tant, left  me  no  excuse  for  pretending  longer  to 
misunderstand  my  worthy  acquaintances ;  and 
placing  the  gun  to  my  shoulder,  I  was  as  much 
surprised  at  putting  the  ball  within  a  couple  of 
inches  of  the  centre,  as  if  the  tree  had  screamed 
when  thus  pierced  by  my  random  bullet. 

Having  met  with  those  in  Michigan  who  will 
drive  a  rusty  nail  with  a  rifle  at  this  distance,  and 
shoot  leaves  from  each  other's  heads  at  six  rods,  I 
could  not  account  for  the  degree  of  approval  man- 
ifested by  the  spectators,  till  my  companion  in- 
formed me  that  the  Indians,  owing  perhaps  to  the 
inferiority  of  their  rifles,  which  are  of  English 
manufacture,  are  but  indifferent  marksmen  at  still 
objects.  "  Tai-ya"  cried  the  women,  "  Neshin" 
said  the  chief,  and  "  Nesheshin"  echoed  his  attend- 
ants ;  while  the  blankets  of  the  lodges  were  now 
for  the  first  time  raised,  and  entering,  we  stretched 
ourselves  on  mats  around  the  fire.  A  youth  of 
nineteen  sprang  to  his  feet  as  I  removed  the  dingy 
curtain  which  formed  the  door,  and  revealed  a 
face   and  form   that  might  be   the  model  of  an 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  207 

■/ 

Apollo.  Being  ill  at  the  time,  he  was  but  half- 
dressed  :  the  purple  blanket  dropping  from  his 
shoulders  setting  off  a  neck  and  chest  of  the  finest 
manly  proportions.  His  features  were  copied  by 
Nature  from  a  Greek  model ;  while  his  shaven 
crown,  with  the  single  chivalric  scalp-lock  tufted 
with  a  heron's  feather,  would,  in  its  noble  develop- 
ments, have  thrown  the  disciples  of  Gall  and  Spurz- 
heim  into  ecstasy.  The  peculiarity  of  his  head- 
dress, with  the  beautifully  beaded  leggins  round 
his  ankles,  revealed  to  me  at  once  that  the 
young  gentleman  was  an  Indian  dandy — a  Pot- 
tawattamie Pel  ham  in  an  undress  ;  and  I  as- 
sure you  that  Mr.  C never  schooled  any  of 

his  New- York  rivals  to  wear  their  Spanish  cloak 
with  a  better  air  than  was  exhibited  by  my  red 
friend  Mitosway-Coquatchegun,  or  Ten-Garters, 
as  he  gathered  the  folds  Of  his  blankets  about  his 
person. 

Pipes  were  now  lit,  and  Ten-Garters,  who  was 
too  unwell  to  smoke  himself,  politely,  after  a  few 
whiffs,  tendered  me  his,  while  my  companion,  who 
could  partially  speak  the  language,  was  supplied 
from  another  quarter :  we  were  soon  perfectly  at 
home.  I  had  picked  up  from  the  floor  of  the 
lodge,  on  entering,  a  rude  musical  instrument — a 
species  of  flute,  of  imperfect   tones,  but   having 


208  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

a  rich  mellow  sound — when,  as  I  was  trying 
to  squeeze  a  tune  from  the  gammutless  pipe, 
Warpkesick  rose  abruptly,  and  stating  that  he 
had  to  start  at  once  on  a  trapping  expedition,  sig- 
nified that  we  should  take  our  departure.  An  Indian 
pony  stood  at  the  door,  and  leaping  at  one  bound 
into  the  wooden  saddle,  an  immense  bundle  of 
steel-traps  was  handed  to  the  chief  by  a  by-stander ; 
and  accompanied  by  an  Indian  on  foot,  almost  as 
sorry-looking  as  the  miserable  beast  he  rode,  our 
abrupt  host  disappeared  at  once  into  the  woods. 
I  was  lingering  behind  to  purchase  the  flute, 
and  had  conciliated  the  squaws  wonderfully  by 
tearing  out  the  silk  lining  of  my  frock-coat,  and 
giving  it  in  shreds  to  their  children,  when  my 
friend,  being  already  mounted,  told  me  we  had  better 
move  off.  I  had  barely  time  to  cross  the  saddle, 
when  a  whoop  rang  through  the  woods,  which,  while 
it  made  my  horse  spring  almost  from  beneath  me, 
would  have  wakened  Rip  Van  winkle  from  his  twenty 
years'  doze.  The  piercing  cry  from  the  forest  was 
echoed  with  an  exulting  shout  from  every  wig- 
wam. A  dozen  dusky  figures  leaped  through 
their  flimsy  porches,  with  as  many  rifles  gleaming 
in  their  hands.  He  of  the  heron  feather  was  the 
first  that  caught  my  eye,  and  as  his  gun  pointed  in 
the  direction  whence  trje  first  whoop  came,  imme- 
diately behind  me,  I  could  not  help,  in  spite  of  the 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  209 

undesirable  propinquity  of  its  muzzle,  admiring 
the  eagle-eye  and  superb  attitude  of  the  young 
warrior.  Not  a  soul  advanced  three  paces  from 
the  covert  whence  he  sprung.  There  was  a  dead 
silence.  The  children  held  their  breath,  and  "  Meg 
Merrilies,"  who  had  stepped  on  a  fallen  tree  at  the 
first  outcry,  now  stood  so  still  that  her  eldritch 
form,  were  it  not  for  the  elf  locks  streaming  over 
her  scarlet  blanket  in  the  breeze,  might  have  been 
mistaken  for  a  figure  of  stone.  Another  whoop, 
and  the  cause  of  all  the  commotion  at  once  ap- 
peared. A  noble  buck,  roused  from  his  lair  by 
Warpkesick,  comes  bounding  by  the  camp,  and 
buries  his  proud  antlers  in  the  dust  in  a  moment. 
A  dozen  scalping-knives  pierce  his  leathern  coat, 
and  the  poor  creature  is  stripped  of  his  skin 
almost  before  he  has  time  to  pant  out  his  expiring 
breath. 

I  rode  home  reflecting  upon  all  I  had  ever  read 
of  the  want  of  vivacity  and  fire  in  the  Indian  char- 
acter, and  concluded  that  I  would  rather  have 
witnessed  the  spirited  scene  I  have  just  attempted 
to  describe  to  you,  than  double  all  the  knowledge 
I  have  1 1  therto  laid  up  from  such  sources. 

I  leave  this  comfortable  house  in  the  morninsr, 
and  it  will  be  long  before  I  reach  again  one  half 
so  agreeable. 

s  2 


210  A  WINTER     IN     THE    WEST. 


LETTER  XVI. 

Prairie  Ronde,  Kalamazoo  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  26. 

"  Stranger,  will  you  take  a  cocktail  with  us?" 
called  out  a  tall  athletic  fellow  to  me  as  I  was 
making  my  way  through  a  group  of  wild-look- 
ing characters  assembled  an  hour  since  around 
the  fire  by  which  I  am  now  writing.  There  was 
a  long-haired  "  hooshier"  from  Indiana,  a  couple  of 
smart-looking  "  suckers"*  from  the  southern  part 
of  Illinois,  a  keen-eyed  leather-belted  "badger" 
from  the  mines  of  Ouisconsin,  and  a  sturdy  yeoman- 
like fellow,  whose  white  capot,  Indian  moccasins, 
and  red  sash  proclaimed,  while  he  boasted  a  three 
years'  residence,  the  genuine  wolverine,  or  natu- 
ralized Michiganian.  Could  one  refuse  to  drink 
with  such  a  company?  The  spokesman  was 
evidently  a  "  red-horse"  from  Kentucky,  and  no- 
thing was  wanting  but  a  "  buck-eye"  from  Ohio  to 
render  the  assemblage  as  complete  as  it  was  select. 
I  was  in  the  midst  of  the  first  real  prairie  I  had 

*  So  called  after  the  fish  of  that  name,  from  his  going  up  the 
river  to  the  mines,  and  returning  at  the  season  when  the  sucker 
makes  its  migrations. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  211 

ever  seen — on  an  island  of  timber,  whose  lee,  while 
making  slow  headway  for  the  last  two  hours,  with 
a  biting  breeze  on  my  beam,  it  had  been  my  whole 
object,  aim,  and  ambition  to  get — a  comfortable 
bar-room,  a  smoking  "cocktail,"  a  worshipful 
assemblage  (Goldsmith's  Club  was  a  fool  to  it)  had 
never  entered  my  dreams  !  Could  I  refuse  to 
drink  with  such  a  company  ?  The  warm  glass  is 
in  my  frozen  fingers.  The  most  devout  temper- 
ance man  could  see  no  harm  in  that !  It  is  touched 
smartly  by  the  rim  of  the  red-horse, — it  is  brushed 
by  the  hooshier, — it  rings  against  the  badger, — 
comes  in  companionable  contact  with  the  wolve- 
rine,— "  My  respects  to  you,  gentlemen,  and  luck 
to  all  of  us." 

Here  was  a  capital  commencement  with  just 
the  sort  of  sallad  of  society  I  have  been  long  wish- 
ing to  meet  with,  having  as  yet  only  tasted  its 
component  parts  in  detail.  But  auspicious  as  was 
the  beginning,  I  nearly  got  into  a  difficulty  with 
my  new  acquaintances  a  few  moments  afterward, 
by  handing  the  landlord  a  share  of  the  reckoning  ; 
and  I  took  back  the  coin  forced  upon  me,  with  many 
apologies  upon  my  part  for  having  presumed  to 
pay  part  of  a  "general  treat,"  while  labouring 
under  the  disqualifications  of  being  a  stranger. 
Room   was    then  civilly  made    for  me  by  the 


212  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

fireplace,  and  accepting  a  pipe  proffered  by  one 
of  the  company,  a  few  whiffs  made  me  sufficiently 
sick  and  at  home  to  lay  it  by  without  further 
ceremony.  "  There's  a  smart  chance  of  cigars 
there  in  the  bar,  stranger,  if  you'd  try  some  of 
them,"  said  one  of  the  hooshiers. — "  Yes,"  echoed 
the  other ;  "  and  they  are  a  heap  better  than  those 
pipes." — "  I  allow,"  rejoined  another  of  the  com- 
pany ;  "  but  I  wish  that  fellow  would  shut  the  door ; 
he  must  think  that  we  were  all  raised  in  a  saw-mill, 
and  then  he  looks  so  peert  whenever  he  comes  in." 
— "  Poor  fellow  !"  ejaculated  one  who  had  not  yet 
spoken,  "  he  is  considerably  troubled  with  young- 
ness." 

"From  the  eastern  side,  stranger?"  said  another 
to  me,  "  I  am  told  it's  tolerable  frog  pasture.  Now 
here  the  soil's  so  deep  one  can't  raise  any  long 
sarce — they  all  get  pulled  through  the  other  side. 
We  can  winter  our  cows,  however,  on  wooden 
clocks,  there's  so  many  Yankees  among  us,"  &c. 

A  scattering  conversation  was  kept  up  in  similar 
quaint  expressions  for  some  time ;  but  as  Mr. 
Hackett  has  already  given  the  cream  of  western 
phraseology  in  his  whimsical  caricature  of  "  the 
Kentuckian,"  I  will  not  tire  you  with  enumerating 
more  of  those  which  fell  under  my  observation. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  213 

These  unique  terms,  indeed,  were  poured  out  so 
copiously,  that  it  was  impossible  for  one's  memory, 
though  elastic  as  a  pair  of  saddle-bags,  to  retain 
them.  At  last  a  train  and  a  couple  of  carioles 
drove  up  to  the  door,  and  I  discovered,  upon  their 
bundling  merrily  into  these  vehicles,  that  the  whole 
company  were  bound  for  a  wedding.  "  Jim,"  cried 
one  driver  to  another,  snapping  his  whip,  "  let  our 
horses  run  near  the  silk."  Jim  cracked  his  snapper, 
and  the  light  carioles  taking  the  lead,  the  more 
humble  train  skimmed  rapidly  after  them  :  their 
dark  shadows  were  soon  lost  upon  the  moonlit 
prairie,  and  the  sound  of  their  bells  died  away  in 
the  distance  by  the  time  I  had  regained  my  now 
solitary  seat  by  the  fire. 

I  have  had  but  a  sorry  time  since  leaving  the 
agreeable  company  I  spoke  of  in  my  last.  To-day, 
indeed,  the  weather,  though  cold  and  windy,  has 
been  clear.  But  on  the  two  previous,  I  rode  for 
the  whole  time  through  alternate  snow  and  sleet, 
which  the  wind  at  times  blew  so  directly  in  my 
face  as  to  make  it  almost  impossible  to  proceed. 
In  one  instance,  while  making  mv  wav  through  a 
dense  forest  of  twelve  or  fourteen  miles  between 
the  openings,  without  a  cabin  by  the  way,  my  horse 
stopped  suddenly,  and  looking  about  ten  paces 
ahead,  I  saw  a  couple  of  deer  standing  immediately 


214  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

in  my  path,  and  gazing  on  me  with  the  most  perfect 
unconcern  ;  but  my  fingers  were  so  numb  with 
cold  that  1  was  unable  to  cock  my  gun,  while  the 
timid  creatures  slowly  retired  within  the  depths  of 
the  forest.  The  Kekalamazoo  wound  through  this 
wood,  but  the  under-growth  of  timber  was  so  very 
heavy  that  its  waters,  though  within  a  few  yards 
of  me,  were  rarely  discernible ;  and  their  ample 
flow,  when  seen  as  now  swollen  by  the  troubled 
current  of  Battle  Creek  and  other  tributaries, 
though  capable  of  bearing  boats  of  considerable 
burthen,  possessed  less  charms  for  me  than  when  I 
first  struck  the  slender  rill  as  it  leaped  unsullied 
from  its  virgin  fountain,  and  went  singing  on  its 
course.  Still  it  was  with  regret,  when  at  last  fer- 
ried over  the  Kekalamazoo,  so  long  my  only  com- 
panion, that,  on  turning  my  horse's  head  to  the 
south,  I  took  leave  of  its  Arcadian  banks  for  ever. 
I  passed  the  previous  night  at  the  little  hamlet  of 
Comstock,  where  an  enterprising  young  gentle- 
man, after  whom  the  place  is  called,  having  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  good  mill-site,  is  creating  a  flourishing 
establishment  around  him  ;  a  frame-store  and  seve- 
ral log-cabins,  with  two  or  three  mills,  already  giv- 
ing some  importance  to  the  situation  in  a  new  coun- 
try. My  ride  of  to-day,  having  started  late,  brought 
me,  about  sunset,  a  distance  of  twenty  miles,  to  the 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  215 

verge  of  Prairie  Ronde  ;  the  intermediate  country 
consisting  partly  of  burr-oak  plains,  broken  some- 
times by  the  short  round  hills  I  have  before  de- 
scribed, and  partly  of  broad  grassy  meadows,  run- 
ning  sometimes   into   marshes,   and   occasionally 
watered  by  some  clear  stream,  whose  sandy  bottom 
would  contrast  strongly  with  its  low  sedgy  brink. 
The  ground  became  higher  and  firmer  as  I  ap- 
proached Prairie  Ronde  ;  and  then,  after  riding  for 
a  few  miles  through  the  openings,  when  I  expected 
to  descend  upon  a  broad  meadow,  somewhat  resem- 
bling the  many  I  have  seen  in  Michigan,  fully  an- 
swering to  my  preconceived  ideas  of  a  prairie,  I 
came  suddenly  upon  an  immense  piece  of  cleared 
table-land,  some  fifty  feet  above  a  pretty  lake  in  its 
vicinity.     The  scattering  houses  around  its   bor- 
ders,  with  the  island  of  timber  in  the  centre  and  the 
range  of  six  or  seven  miles  of  prairie  on  every  side, 
assured  me  that  this  was  Prairie  Ronde  ;  while  the 
piercing  blast  which,  as  the  sun  sunk  redly  on  the 
opposite  side,  rushed  out  from  his  western  resting- 
place  and  blew  the  snow-drift  in  my  teeth,  made 
me  eager  to  cross  the  waste  as  rapidly  as  possible, 
and   sufficiently  accounts   for   the   pleasure   with 
which  I  entered  this    hospitable   inn.     The   col- 
lection of  houses  which  stand   sheltered  by  this 
wood  is  called  "  Schoolcraft."     The  wood  itself, 


216  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

though  only  five  or  six  hundred  acres  in  extent, 
has  a  small  lake  in  the  centre,  and  the  village,  if 
not  the  whole  settled  part  of  the  prairie,  is  distin- 
guished by  the  number  of  fine  running-horses, 
blooded  dogs,  and  keen  sportsmen  it  has  in  propor- 
tion to  the  population.  Fox-hunting  on  horseback, 
with  full  packs  of  hounds,  is  the  favourite  sport ; 
though  wolf,  bear,  and  badger-baiting  have  each 
their  active  followers.  The  soil  is  so  easy  of  cul- 
ture and  so  generous  in  its  product,  that  the  settlers, 
after  attending  to  their  necessary  avocations,  have 
ample  leisure  for  their  many  recreations.  Prairie 
Ronde,  though,  like  all  parts  of  Michigan,  in  a  great 
measure  settled  by  emigrants  from  the  State  of 
New-York,  is  said  to  count  a  still  greater  number 
of  its  residents  from  natives  of  the  south  and  west. 
The  population  generally  was,  perhaps,  fairly  rep- 
resented at  the  assembly  to  which  I  so  unceremo- 
niously introduced  you  at  the  opening  of  the  letter. 

Niles,  Berrien  Co.,  M.  T.,  Dec.  28. 
I  have  been  now  for  two  days  in  St.  Joseph's 
county,  considered  among  the  finest  in  Michigan  ; 
having,  since  I  wrote  the  above,  traversed  the 
counties  of  St.  Joseph  and  Cass,  watered  by  the  St. 
Joseph's  river,  which  is  the  most  imposing-looking 
stream  I  have  yet  seen.     A  ride  of  fourteen  miles 


A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  217 

from  Prairie  Ronde  brought  me  first  to  its  banks, 
which,  rising  occasionally  fifty  or  sixty  feet  above  the 
water  in  a  sudden  bluff,  look  higher  than  those  of  any 
river  I  have  yet  seen  in  the  peninsula.  You  must 
already  have  gathered,  from  my  attempts  at  por- 
traying Michigan  scenery,  that  neither  the  grand, 
the  picturesque — hardly  even  the  romantic — are  to 
be  numbered  among  its  characteristics.  "  The 
beautiful"  comprehends  them  all :  and  yet  you  can 
readily  imagine  that,  that  beauty  is  neither  tame 
nor  monotonous  which  can  shine  through  the  dreary 
months  of  winter,  and  make  the  half- frozen  and  soli- 
tary traveller  almost  forget  its  rigours.  It  is  true, 
that  one  brought  up  in  a  more  rugged  and  broken 
country  might  often  miss  the  mountain-tops  leaning 
against  the  sky,— might  sigh  for  the  sound  of  a 
cascade,  and  long  once  more  to  plant  his  foot  upon 
a  cliff;  and  yet,  where  would  the  eye  more  delight 
to  wander  than  through  these  beautiful  groves, 
which  in  summer  must  stretch  their  green  arcades 
on  every  side  ?  Where  rest  more  happily  than  on 
those  grassy  meadows  on  which  their  vistas  open  ? 
These  streams,  too,  that  sparkle  so  brightly  over 
their  golden  beds,  are  they  no  substitute  for  the  rush- 
ing torrents  of  more  mountainous  countries?  or  does 
the  lichen-covered  crag  tempt  one's  footsteps  more 
than  this  teeming  soil,  when  nature  has  carpeted  it 

VOL.  I. — T 


218  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST, 

with  the  myriad  of  wild  flowers  which  the  summer's 
sun  calls  forth  ?  To  no  scenery  of  our  country  that 
I  have  yet  seen  is  the  term  "  Arcadian"  more  ap- 
plicable, than  to  the  rich  and  fairy  landscape  on  the 
western  side  of  the  peninsula,  watered  by  the  Ke- 
kalamazoo  and  the  St.  Joseph's. 

The  latter  stream,  when  I  first  beheld  it,  was 
filled  with  floating  ice,  which  the  deep  and  rapid 
tide  brought  down  with  such  force,  that  my  horse 
recoiled  with  affright  when  I  attempted  to  urge 
him  into  the  current,  at  a  point  where  an  old  woman 
told  me  was  the  usual  place  of  fording.  A  rope- 
ferry,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  farther  on,  removed  the 
difficulty ;  and  finding  my  way  along  a  rich  bottom, 
where  the  trail  was  so  encumbered  with  vines  that 
it  was  difficult,  even  at  this  season,  to  keep  it,  I 
hailed  a  grim-looking  Charon,  with  a  shock  head  of 
hair,  attired  in  a  green  hunting-shirt,  who  was 
standing  in  the  doorway  of  a  cabin  on  the  oppo- 
site side,  and  crossing  for  me  in  his  scow,  I  was 
soon  conveyed  across  the  wintry  torrent.  The 
country  now  became  gradually  more  populous 
as  I  approached  the  village  and  prairie  of  White 
Pigeon.  I  had  ridden  fourteen  miles  in  the 
morning  without  seeing  the  sign  of  a  habita- 
tion ;  and  as  one  meets  with  neither  travel- 
lers nor  emigrants  at  this  season,  there  is  some 


A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  219 

company  even  in  the  smoke  of  a  chimney,  though 
you  do  not  stop  to  warm  your  fingers  by  the  fire 
beneath  it.  I  expected  long  before  this  to  have 
fallen  in  with  a  most  agreeable  companion,  in  a 
gentleman  of  the  country  whom  I  met'  with  at 
Detroit,  and  who  is  a  considerable  proprietor  on 
the  St.  Joseph's.  Having  a  fine  taste  for  natural 
scenery,  and  being  one  of  the  best  rifle-shots  that 
I  have  ever  heard  of,  I  anticipated  much  plea- 
sure and  advantage  from  his  company  and  gui- 
dance through  the  western  part  of  the  peninsula. 
But  my  journey  through  Michigan  is  now  nearly 
finished,  as  it  began,  entirely  alone.  At  White 
Pigeon,  where  I  found  quite  a  pretty  village  of  four 
years'  growth,  I  seemed,  in  getting  upon  the  post- 
route  from  Detroit  to  Chicago,  to  get  back  once 
more  to  an  old  country.  I  found  a  good  inn 
and  attendance  at  Savary's,  and  discovered,  by  the 
travellers  going  north  and  south,  that  travelling 
was  not  as  yet  completely  frozen  up.  There  are 
a  great  many  English  emigrants  settled  upon  this 
prairie,  who,  I  am  told,  are  successfully  introducing 
here  the  use  of  live  hedges  instead  of  fences  in 
farming.  They  are  generally  of  a  respectable 
class,  and  seem  to  be  quite  popular  with  the 
American  settlers. 

The  morning  was  fine  when  I  left  White  Pigeon 


220  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

to-day;  and  as  the  sun  shot  down  through  the  tall 
woods,  nothing  could  be  more  cheering  than  my 
ride  amon£  the  beautiful  hills  of  Cass  countv. 
The  road,  which  is  remarkably  good,  meanders 
through  ravines  for  a  distance  of  many  miles,  the 
conical  hills  resting  upon  the  plain  in  such  a  manner 
as  barely  to  leave  a  wheel-track  between  them, 
except  when  at  times  some  pretty  lake  or  broad 
meadow  pushes  its  friths  far  within  their  embrace. 
A  prairie  of  some  extent  was  to  be  traversed  on 
this  side  of  these  eminences,  and  the  floating  ice 
on  the  St.  Joseph's  was  glistening  beneath  its 
shadowy  banks  in  the  rays  of  the  cold  winter  moon 
when  I  reached  its  borders,  and  arrived  at  the 
stage-house  in  this  flourishing  town  of  Niles. 
Mine  host,  who  does  not  seem  to  be  the  most  ac- 
commodating person  in  the  world,  has  refused  to 
provide  supper  for  myself  and  two  other  gentle- 
men at  so  late  an  hour,  assigning  as  a  reason  that 
"  his  women  are  not  made  of  steel," — an  instance 
of  cause  and  effect  which  I  merely  put  upon  record 
as  being  the  only  one  of  the  kind  I  have  met  with 
in  all  Michigan.  My  fellow- sufferers  appear  to  be 
both  agreeable  men ;  and  as  we  are  to  travel  in 
company  to  Chicago,  the  sympathy  arising  from 
our  present  melancholy  condition  may  ensure  a 
pleasant  intercourse  under  happier  auspices. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  221 

The  county  of  Cass,  through  which  I  have  passed 
to-day,  has  a  population  of  more  than  2000,  and 
contains  seven  prairies  of  six  or  eight  miles  in 
diameter,  besides  many  smaller  ones.     They  pro- 
duce,   when    cultivated,    from    thirty   to    eighty 
bushels  of  new  corn,  or  forty  of  wheat,  to  the 
acre.     The  mode  of  planting  the  former  is  to  run 
a  furrow,  drop  the  corn  in,  and  cover  it  with  a 
succeeding  furrow,  which  is  planted  in  a  similar 
way,  and  the  field  is  rarely  either  ploughed  or  hoed 
after  planting.     There  are  several  pretty  lakes  in 
this  county;  but  it  is  not  so  well  watered  as  St. 
Joseph's,  through  which  I  passed  yesterday,  which 
for  local  advantages  of  every  kind,  as  well  as  fer- 
tility of  soil,  is  generally  considered  one  of  the  best 
in  the  peninsula.     I  like  Kalamazoo  county,  how- 
ever, as  much  as  any  part  of  Michigan  I  have 
seen.     I  am  now  within  eight  or  ten  miles  of  the 
Indiana  boundary,  and  some  twenty  or  thirty  only 
from  the  shores  of  Lake  Michigan,  having  described 
nearly  a  semicircle  in  my  tour  through  the  pen- 
insula, including,  with  some  deviations,  the  coun- 
ties  of  Wayne,   Monroe,  Lenawee,  and  Wash- 
tenaw on  the  east,  Jackson  in  the  centre,  and  Cal- 
houn, Kalamazoo,  St.  Joseph's,  Cass,  and  Berrien 
on  the  west ;  and  I  have  not  met  a  resident  in  that 

whole  range  but  what  was  pleased  with  the  coun- 

t2 


222  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

try,  and  I  may  almost  say  attached  to  its  soil. 
The  females  indeed  will  sometimes  murmur  ;  and 
in  some  remote  places  I  have  heard  those  whose 
conversations  indicated  that  they  had  not  been 
brought  up  with  the  most  ordinary  advantages, 
complain  of  "the  want  of  society!"  But  even 
these  would  love  to  dilate  upon  the  beauties  of  the 
country  when  the  flowers  were  in  bloom.  Others 
again,  who  had  been  more  gently  nurtured, 
would  sigh  at  one  moment  for  the  comforts  and 
elegancies  of  their  maternal  homes,  while  their 
eyes  would  kindle  with  enthusiasm  the  next,  when 
speaking  of  the  appearance  which  the  woods 
around  their  new  dwellings  wore  in  summer. 
Small  communities  form  but  slowly  in  a  country 
where  the  settlers,  instead  of  gradually  pushing 
their  way  together  into  the  depths  of  the  forest,  as 
at  the  Eastward,  drive  their  wagons  in  any  direc- 
tion a  hundred  miles  through  the  openings,  and 
plant  themselves  down  a  day's  journey  apart,  just 
where  their  fancy  prompts  them.  This  will  ac- 
count for  my  so  often  lighting  upon  a  pleasant 
hamlet,  after  a  day's  travel  through  a  perfect 
wilderness. 

The  river  St.  Joseph  debouches  into  Lake 
Michigan  in  this  county ;  and  as  a  steamboat  will 
probably  run   the   next    season  from   the   town 


A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  223 

rapidly  growing  at  its  mouth  to  Chicago,  a  rail- 
road from  Detroit  to  this  steamboat-harbour  is 
only  wanting  to  bring  the  visiter  of  Niagara  within 
a  few  days'  travel  of  Chicago,  and  carry  him 
through  the  flowery  groves  of  Michigan  to  one  of 
the  most  important  points  in  the  Union,  and  what 
may  be  termed  the  central  head  of  the  Mississippi 
Valley.  Delmonico  may  then  stock  his  larder 
with  grouse  from  the  meadows  of  Michigan,  and 
Gassin  try  his  skill  upon  the  delicious  fish  that 
swarm  her  lakes  and  rivers  (would  that  I  could  at 
this  moment  witness  some  of  their  curious  orgies) ; 
while  sportsmen  will  think  no  more  of  a  trip  hither 
than  they  do  now  of  an  excursion  to  Islip,  Rayner- 
South,  or  Patchogue.  In  the  mean  time  I  have 
secured  you  the  seeds  of  more  than  twenty  varie- 
ties of  wild  flowers,  which  I  shall  send  to  their 
destination  as  soon  as  possible,  lest,  from. the  rapid 
increase  of  internal  communication,  they  may  lose 
half  their  value  from  ceasing  to  be  a  rarity. 


224  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 


LETTER   XVII. 

Door  Prairie,  Indiana,  Dec.  29,  1833. 

Being  now  on  the  mail  route  between  Detroit 
and  Chicago,  I  am  travelling  very  comfortably  in 
a  four-horse  wagon,  with  the  gentlemen  mentioned 
in  my  last.  I  found  my  horse's  back  so  chafed  at 
White  Pigeon,  that  it  was  unpleasant  to  use  him 
longer  under  the  saddle  ;  and  having  met  with  my 
trunk  at  Niles,  which  was  forwarded  from  Monroe 
by  a  friend,  I  am  in  a  measure  compelled  to  adopt 
what  is  certainly  the  most  agreeable  mode  of 
travelling  at  this  season  through  a  bleak  prairie 
country. 

The  cold  winter  moon  was  still  riding  high  in 
the  heavens  as  we  ferried  over  the  St.  Joseph's  at 
Niles  this  morning.  A  low-sided  scow  was  the 
means  of  conveyance  ;  and  after  breaking  the  solid 
ice  near  the  shore  to  loose  us  from  our  moorings, 
it  required  some  pains  to  shun  the  detached  cakes 
which  came  driving  down  the  centre  of  the  dark 
rolling  river ;  while,  near  the  opposite  shore,  they 
had  become  so  wedged  and  frozen  together  that  it 
required  considerable  exertion  to  break  a  way  with 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  225 

our  long  poles,  and  make  good  our  landing.  At 
length,  ascending  the  bank,  a  beautiful  plain,  with 
a  clump  of  trees  here  and  there  upon  its  surface, 
opened  to  our  view.  The  establishment  of  the 
Carey  Mission,*  a  long,  low  white  building,  could 
be  distinguished  afar  off  faintly  in  the  moonlight, 
while  several  winterf  lodges  of  the  Pottawattamies, 
three  or  four  hundred  of  which  tribe  inhabit  this 
line  district,  were  plainly  perceptible  over  the 
plain.  The  moon,  indeed,  shone  with  an  efful- 
gence such  as  I  have  never  witnessed,  except  be- 
neath the  pearly  skies  of  the  west.  Morning  came 
at  last ;  still,  but  excessively  cold,  our  horses'  manes 
and  our  own  clothes  being  covered  with  hoar-frost, 
while  each  blade  of  grass  that  shot  its  wilted  spear 
above  the  snow  glistened  like  a  diamond's  point 
beneath  the  uprising  sun. 

About  ten  o'clock  we  reached  a  shanty  on 
Terre  Coupe  prairie,  and  finding  no  one  at  home,  we 
rummaged  the  establishment  to  find  the  materials 
for  a  breakfast,  which  we  cooked  ourselves,  and  left 
payment  upon  the  table.  Our  next  stage  carried  us 
over  a  rolling  prairie  to  Laporte.  The  undulating 
surface  resembled  the  ground-swell  of  the  sea;  and 
nothing  could  be  more  dreary,  at  this  season,  when 

•  See  note  H.  t  See  note  I. 


226  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

the  bright  sky  of  the  morning  became  overcast, 
than  moving  mile  after  mile  over  this  frozen  lake — 
for  such  it  appeared — with  nothing  but  its  monot- 
onous swell  to  catch  the  eve  wherever  its  glances 
roamed. 

It  was  afternoon  when  we  reached  the  little 
settlement  of  Laporte,  which  is  situated  on  a  pretty 
lake,  in  a  prairie  of  the  same  name,  the  skirts  of 
which  are  beautifully  timbered.  There  was  just 
light  enough  remaining  when  we  reached  our  pres- 
ent stopping-place,  a  comfortable  log-cabin,  to  see 
the  opening  ahead  through  the  timber,  from  which 
this  prairie  takes  its  name.  It  forms  a  door  open- 
ing upon  an  arm  of  the  Grand  Prairie,  which  runs 
through  the  States  of  Indiana  and  Illinois,  and 
extends  afterward,  if  I  mistake  not,  to  the  base  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  I  am  now  in  the  land  of 
the  Hooshiers,  and  find  that  long-haired  race  much 
more  civilized  than  some  of  their  western  neigh- 
bours are  willing  to  represent  them.  The  term 
"Hooshier,"  like  that  of  Yankee,  or  Buck-eye, 
first  applied  contemptuously,  has  now  become  a 
soubriquet-  that  bears  nothing  invidious  with  it 
to  the  ear  of  an  Indianian.  This  part  of  the 
State  is  as  yet  but  thinly  settled,  but  the  land 
is  rapidly  coming  into  market,  and  it  is  cal- 
culated to  support  a  dense  population.     A  new 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  227 

town  and  harbour,  called  "  Michigan  City,"  about 
thirty  miles  off,  on  the  shore  of  the  lake,  is  fast 
coming  into  notice,  and  giving  a  spur  to  the  settle- 
ments in  these  parts.  The  country  is,  however, 
still  wild  enough,  and  I  have  a  wilder  yet  to  pass, 
before  reaching  Chicago. 

Chicago,  Jan.  1,  1834. 

We  left  the  prairie  on  the  east,  after  passing 
through  "  the  door,"  and  entered  a  forest,  where 
the  enormous  black-walnut  and  sycamore  trees 
cumbered  the  soil  with  trunks  from  which  a  com- 
fortable dwelling  might  be  excavated.  The  road 
was  about  as  bad  as  could  be  imagined  ;  and  after 
riding  so  long  over  prairies  as  smooth  as  a  turn- 
pike, the  stumps  and  fallen  trees  over  which  we 
were  compelled  to  drive,  with  the  deep  mud-holes 
into  which  our  horses  continually  plunged,  were 
any  thing  but  agreeable.  Still,  the  stupendous 
vegetation  of  the  forest  interested  me  sufficiently 
to  make  the  time,  otherwise  enlivened  by  good 
company,  pass  with  sufficient  fleetness,  though  we 
made  hardly  more  than  two  miles  an  hour  through- 
out the  stage.  At  last,  after  passing  several  un- 
tenanted sugar-camps*  of  the  Indians,  we  reached 
a  cabin  prettily  situated  on  the  banks  of  a  lively 

*  See  note  J. 


228  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

brook,  winding  through  the  forest.  A  little  French- 
man waited  at  the  door  to  receive  our  horses, 
while  a  couple  of  half-intoxicated  Indians  followed 
us  into  the  house,  in  the  hope  of  getting  a'netos 
(vulgarly,  "  a  treat")  from  the  new  comers.  The 
usual  settlers'  dinner  of  fried  bacon,  venison  cutlets, 
hot  cakes  and  wild  honey,  with  some  tolerable  tea 
and  Indian  sugar,  as  that  made  from  the  maple- 
tree  is  called  at  the  West,  was  soon  placed  before 
us ;  while  our  new  driver,  the  frizzy  little  French- 
man already  mentioned,  harnessed  a  fresh  team, 
and  hurried  us  into  the  wagon  as  soon  as  possible. 
The  poor  little  fellow  had  thirty  miles  to  drive 
before  dark,  on  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  route 
of  the  line  between  Detroit  and  Chicago.  It  was 
easy  to  see  that  he  knew  nothing  of  driving,  the 
moment  he  took  his  reins  in  hand ;  but  when  one 
of  my  fellow-travellers  mentioned  that  little  Victor 
had  been  preferred  to  his  present  situation  of  trust 
from  the  indefatigable  manner  in  which,  before  the 
stage  route  was  established  last  season,  he  had  for 
years  carried  the  mail  through  this  lonely  country 
— swimming  rivers  and  sleeping  in  the  woods  at 
all  seasons, — it  was  impossible  to  dash  the  mixture 
of  boyish  glee  and  official  pomposity  with  which 
he  entered  upon  his  duties,  by  suggesting  any  im- 
provement as  to  the  mode  of  performing  them. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  229 

Away  then  we  went,  helter  skelter,  through  the 
woods — scrambled  through  a  brook,  and  galloping 
over  an  arm  of  the  prairie,  struck  again  into  the 
forest.  A  fine  stream,  called  the  Calamine,  made 
our  progress  here  more  gentle  for  a  moment.  But 
immediately  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  was  an 
Indian  trading-post,  and  our  little  French  Phaeton 
who,  to  tell  the  truth,  had  been  repressing  his  fire 
for  the  last  half-hour,  while  winding  among  the 
decayed  trees  and  broken  branches  of  the  forest, 
could  contain  no  longer.  He  shook  the  reins  on 
his  wheel-horses,  and  cracked  up  his  leaders,  with 
an  air  that  would  have  distinguished  him  on  the 
Third  Avenue,  and  been  envied  at  Cato's.  He 
rises  in  his  seat  as  he  passes  the  trading-house  ;  he 
sweeps  by  Jike  a  whirlwind:  but  a  female  peeps 
from  the  portal,  and  it  is  all  over  with  poor 
Victor. 

"  Ah,  wherefore  did  he  turn  to  look  1 
That  pause,  that  fatal  gaze  he  took, 
Hath  doomed — " 

his  discomfiture.  The  infuriate  car  strikes  a 
stump,  and  the  unlucky  youth  shoots  off  at  a  tan- 
gent, as  if  he  were  discharged  from  a  mortar. 
The  whole  operation  was  completed  with  such 
velocity,  that  the  first  intimation  I  had  of  what 

VOL.  I. — U 


230  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

was  going  forward  was  on  finding  myself  two  or 
three  yards  from  the  shattered  wagon,  with  a  tall 
Indian  in  a  wolf-skin  cap  standing  over  me.  My 
two  fellow-passengers  were  dislodged  from  their 
seats  with  the  same  want  of  ceremony ;  but  though 
the  disjecta  membra  of  our  company  were  thus 
prodigally  scattered  about,  none  of  us  providen- 
tially received  injury.  Poor  Victor  was  terribly 
crest-fallen ;  and  had  he  not  unpacked  his  soul  by 
calling  upon  all  the  saints  in  the  calendar,  in  a 
manner  more  familiar  than  respectful,  I  verily 
believe  that  his  tight  little  person  would  have  ex- 
ploded like  a  torpedo.  A  very  respectable-looking 
Indian  female,  the  wife,  probably,  of  the  French 
gentleman  who  owned  the  post,  came  out.  and 
civilly  furnished  us  with  basins  and  towels  to 
clean  our  hands  and  faces,  which  were  sorely  be- 
spattered with  mud,  while  the  gray  old  Indian 
before  mentioned  assisted  in  collecting  our  scat- 
tered baggage. 

The  spot  where  our  disaster  occurred  was  a 
sequestered,  wild-looking  place.  The  trading  es- 
tablishment consisted  of  six  or  eight  log-cabins  of 
a  most  primitive  construction,  all  of  them  gray 
with  age,  and  so  grouped  on  the  bank  of  the  river 
as  to  present  an  appearance  quite  picturesque. 
There  was  not  much  time,  however,  to  be  spent  in 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  231 

observing  its  beauties.  The  sun  was  low,  and  we 
had  twenty-five  miles  yet  to  travel  that  night 
before  reaching  the  only  shanty  on  the  lake-shore. 
My  companions  were  compelled  to  mount  two  of 
the  stage-horses,  while  I  once  more  put  the  saddfre 
on  mine  ;  and  leaving  our  trunks  to  follow  a  week 
hence,  we  slung  our  saddle-bags  across  the  crup- 
pers, and  pushed  directly  ahead. 

A  few  miles'  easy  riding  through  the  woods 
brought  us  to  a  dangerous  morass,  where  we  were 
compelled  to  dismount  and  drive  our  horses  across, 
one  of  the  party  going  in  advance  to  catch  them 
on  the  other  side.  A  mile  or  two  of  pine  barrens 
now  lay  between  us  and  the  shore,  and  winding 
rapidly  among  the  short  hills  covered  with  this 
stinted  growth,  we  came  suddenly  upon  a  mound 
of  white  sand  at  least  fifty  feet  high.  Another  of 
these  desolate-looking  eminences,  still  higher,  lay 
beyond.  We  topped  it  ;  and  there,  far  away 
before  us,  lay  the  broad  bosom  of  Lake  Michigan, 
— the  red  disk  of  the  sun  just  sinking  beneath  it, 
and  the  freshening  night-breeze  beginning  to  curl 
its  limpid  waters  on  the  shore ;  and  now,  having 
gained  their  verge,  whichever  way  we  turned, 
there  was  nothing  discernible  but  the  blackening 
lake  on  one  side  and  these  conical  hills  of  shifting 
white  sand  on  the  other.     Some  of  them,  as  the 


232  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

night  advanced,  and  objects  were  only  discernible 
by  the  bright  starlight,  assumed  a  most  fantastic 
appearance,  and  made  me  regret  that  I  could  not 
visit  the  "  Sleeping  Bear,"  and  other  singularly  - 
formed  mounds,  which,  many  miles  farther  to  the 
north,  swell  from  two  to  three  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  lake.  The  deep  sand,  into  which 
our  horses  sunk  to  the  fetlocks,  was  at  first  most 
wearisome  to  the  poor  beasts  ;  and  having  twenty 
miles  yet  to  travel  entirely  on  the  lake-shore,  we 
were  compelled,  in  spite  of  the  danger  of  quick- 
sands, to  move  as  near  the  water  as  possible.  But 
though  the  day  had  been  mild,  the  night  rapidly 
became  so  cold  that,  before  we  had  proceeded  thus 
many  miles,  the  beach  twenty  yards  from  the  surf 
was  nearly  as  hard  as  stone,  and  the  finest  Mac- 
adamized road  in  the  world  could  not  compare 
with  the  one  over  which  we  now  galloped.  Nor 
did  we  want  lamps  to  guide  us  on  our  way. 
Above,  the  stars  stood  out  like  points  of  light, 
while  the  resplendent  fires  of  the  Aurora  Borealis, 
shooting  along  the  heavens  on  our  right,  were 
mocked  by  the  livid  glare  of  the  Kankakee  marshes 
burning  behind  the  sand-hills  on  our  left.  The 
lake  alone  looked  dark  and  lowering  ;  though  even 
its  gathering  waves  would  smile  when  touched 
with  light  as  they  broke  upon  the  shore.     The 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  233 

intense  cold  seemed  to  invigorate  our  horses ;  and 
dashing  the  fire  from  the  occasional  pebbles,  they 
clattered  along  the  frozen  beach  at  a  rate  that 
brought  us  rapidly  to  our  destination  for  the 
night. 

It  was  a  rude  cabin,  built  of  stems  of  the 
scrub  pine,  standing  behind  a  sandy  swell  about 
two  hundred  yards  from  the  shore.  My  fin- 
gers were  numb  with  cold;  and  seeing  a  rough- 
looking  fellow  moving  from  the  door  towards 
the  horses  of  my  companions,  I  requested  him  to 
take  mine  also  ;  but  upon  his  politely  rejoining  that 
"  he  was  nobody's  servant  but  his  own,"  I  could 
only  wish  him  "  a  more  civil  master ;"  and  pro- 
ceeded to  take  care  of  the  animal  myself.  A 
brake  of  stunted  evergreens,  near-by,  supplied  the 
place  of  a  stable ;  and  passing  a  whisp  of  dry 
grass  over  the  reeking  limbs  of  my  four-footed 
friend,  I  flung  my  cloak  over  his  back  and  tethered 
him  for  the  night.  The  keeper  of  the  rustic  hos- 
telrie  came  up  just  as  I  had  got  through  with  this 
necessary  task,  and  explaining  to  me  that  the  inso- 
lent lounger  was  a  discharged  mail-carrier,  re- 
turned with  me  to  the  house  for  a  measure  of  corn  ; 
while  I,  guided  by  the  light  flickering  through  the 
crevices  of  his  frail  dwelling,  rejoined  my  com- 
panions, nestled  with  two  other  half-frozen  travel- 

u2 


234  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

iers  around  the  grateful  fire  within.  The  strangers 
were  both  western  men  ;  one,  I  believe,  a  farmer, 
for  some  time  settled  in  Illinois,  and  the  other  an 
Indian  trader  of  long  standing  in  Chicago.  War- 
like incidents  in  border  story,  and  the  pacific  deal- 
ings between  the  whites  and  Indians,  formed  the 
chief  subjects  of  conversation,  which  soon  became 
general,  and  was  prolonged  to  a  late  hour ;  finally, 
the  late  treaty  held  at  Chicago — at  which,  as  you 
have  probably  seen  in  the  newspapers,  several 
thousand  Indians  were  present — was  discussed, 
and  the  anecdotes  that  were  told  of  meanness, 
rapacity,  and  highway  robbery  (in  cheating,  steal- 
ing, and  forcibly  taking  away)  from  the  Indians 
exasperated  me  so  that  I  expressed  my  indignation 
and  disgust  in  unmeasured  terms.  The  worthy 
trader,  who  was  a  middle-aged  man,  of  affable, 
quiet  good  manners,  seemed  to  sympathize  with 
me  throughout ;  but  the  whole  current  of  my  feel- 
ings was  totally  changed,  when,  upon  my  observ- 
ing shortly  afterward  to  another  gentleman,  that 
"  I  should  have  liked  to  have  been  at  Chicago  a  year 
ago,"  my  warm  coadjutor  ejaculated  from  under 
the  bed-clothes  where  he  had  in  the  mean  time  be- 
stowed himself,  "  Ah,  sir,  if  you  had,  the  way  in 
which  you'd  have  hooked  an  Indian  blanket  by  this 
time  would  be  curious."     The  chivalric  knight  of 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  235 

La  Mancha  himself  could  not  have  sustained 
heroics  under  such  a  home-thrust,  but  must  have 
burst  into  the  hearty  laugh  in  which  I  was  joined 
by  all  present.  The  hour  of  sleep  for  ail  at  last 
arrived,  and  a  couple  of  wooden  bunks,  swung 
from  the  roof,  falling  to  the  lot  of  those  who  had 
come  in  first,  I  wrapped  myself  in  a  buffalo-skin, 
and  placing  my  saddle  under  my  head  for  a  pillow, 
soon  "  slept  like  a  king ;"  a  term  which,  if 

"  Uneasy  lies  the  head  that  wears  a  crown" 

be  true  doctrine,  is,  probably,  quasi  lucus,  &c. 

Our  transient  acquaintances  parted  from  us  in  a 
most  friendly  manner  in  the  morning ;  and  after 
waiting  in  vain  till  near  noon,  to  see  if  by  any  chance 
little  Victor  might  not  be   able  to  forward   our 
trunks  to  this  point,  we  mounted  once  more,  and 
pushed  ahead  with  all  speed,  to  accomplish  the  re- 
maining twenty  or  thirty  miles  between  the  shanty 
and  Chicago.     Our  route  was  still  along  the  shore ; 
and  after  passing  round  the  end  of  the  lake  and  tak- 
ing a  northwardly  direction,  the  way  in  which  the  icy 
blast  would  come  down  the  bleak  shore  of  the  lake 
"  was  a  caution."     We   galloped  at  full  speed, 
every   man   choosing   his   own  route   along  the 
beach,  our  horses'  hoofs  ringing  the  while  as  if  it 
were  a  pavement  of  flint  beneath  them.    The  rough 


236  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

ice  piled  up  on  the  coast  prevented  us  from  watering 
our  beasts ;  and  we  did  not  draw  a  rein  till  the 
rushing  current  of  the  Calamine,  which  debouches 
into  Lake  Michigan  some  ten  miles  from  Chicago, 
stayed  our  course.  A  cabin  on  the  bank  gave  us  a 
moment's  opportunity  to  warm,  and  then  being  fer- 
ried over  the  wintry  stream,  we  started  with  fresh 
vigour,  and  crossing  about  a  mile  of  prairie  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Chicago,  reached  here  in  time  for 
an  early  dinner.  Our  horses  this  morning  seem 
none  the  worse  for  this  furious  riding  ;  their 
escape  from  ill  consequences  being  readily  attribut- 
able to  the  excellence  of  the  road,  and  the  extreme 
coldness  of  the  weather  while  travelling  it.  For 
my  own  part,  I  never  felt  better  than  after  this  vio- 
lent burst  of  exercise.  We  had  not  been  here  an 
hour  before  an  invitation  to  a  public  ball  was 
courteously  sent  to  us  by  the  managers  ;  and 
though  my  soiled  and  travel- worn  riding-dress  was 
not  exactly  the  thing  to  present  one's  self  in  before 
ladies  of  an  evening,  yet,  in  my  earnestness  to  see 
life  on  the  frontier,  I  easily  allowed  all  objections  to 
be  overruled  by  my  companions,  and  we  accord- 
ingly drove  to  the  house  in  which  the  ball  was  given. 
It  was  a  frame-building,  one  of  the  few  as  yet  to 
be  found  in  Chicago ;  which,  although  one  of  the 
most  ancient  French  trading-posts  on  the  Lakes, can 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  237 

only  date  its  growth  as  a  village  since  the  Indian 
war,  eighteen  months  since.*  When  I  add  that 
the  population  has  quintupled  last  summer,  and  that 
but  few  mechanics  have  come  in  with  the  pro- 
digious increase  of  residents,  you  can  readily  ima- 
gine that  the  influx  of  strangers  far  exceeds  the 
means  of  accommodation  ;  while  scarcely  a  house 
in  the  place,  however  comfortable  looking  outside, 
contains  more  than  two  or  three  finished  rooms. 
in  the  present  instance,  we  were  ushered  into  a 
tolerably  sized  dancing-room,  occupying  the  second 
story  of  the  house,  and  having  its  unfinished 
walls  so  ingeniously  covered  with  pine-branches 
and  flags  borrowed  from  the  garrison,  that,  with 
the  white-washed  ceiling  above,  it  presented  a 
very  complete  and  quite  pretty  appearance.  It  was 
not  so  warm,  however,  that  the  fires  of  cheerful 
hickory,  which  roared  at  either  end,  could  have  been 
readily  dispensed  with.  An  orchestra  of  unplaned 
boards  was  raised  against  the  wall  in  the  centre 
of  the  room  ;  the  band  consisting  of  a  dandy 
negro  with  his  violin,  a  fine  military-looking  bass 
drummer  from  the  fort,  and  a  volunteer  citizen, 
who  alternately  played  an  accompaniment  upon 
the  flute  and  triangle.     Blackee,  who  flourished 

*  See  note  K. 


238  A.     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

r 

about  with  a  great  many  airs  and  graces,  was  de- 
cidedly the  king  of  the  company,  and  it  was  amusing, 
while  his  head  followed  the  direction  of  his  fiddle- 
bow  with  pertinacious  fidelity,  to  see  the  Captain 
Manual-like  precision  with  which  the  soldier  dressed 
to  the  front  on  one  side,  and  the  nonchalant  air  of 
importance  which  the  cit  attempted  to  preserve  on 
the  other.  As  for  the  company,  it  was  such  a 
complete  medley  of  all  ranks,  ages,  professions, 
trades,  and  occupations,  brought  together  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  and  now  for  the  first  time  brought 
together,  that  it  was  amazing  to  witness  the  deco- 
rum with  which  they  commingled  on  this  festive 
occasion.  The  managers  (among  whom  were  some 
officers  of  the  garrison)  must  certainly  be  au  fait 
at  dressing  a  lobster  and  mixing  regent's  punch,  in 
order  to  have  produced  a  harmonious  compound 
from  such  a  collection  of  contrarieties.  The  gayest 
figure  that  was  ever  called  by  quadrille  playing 
Benoit  never  afforded  me  half  the  amusement  that 
did  these  Chicago  cotillons.  Here  you  might  see 
a  veteran  officer  in  full  uniform  balancing  to  a 
tradesman's  daughter  still  in  her  short  frock  and 
trousers,  while  there  the  golden  aiguillette  of  a 
handsome  surgeon  flapped  in  unison  with  the  glass 
beads  upon  a  scrawney  neck  of  fifty.  In  one  quar  ■ 
ter,  the  high-placed  buttons  of  a  linsey-woolsey 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  289 

coat  would  be  dos  a  dos  to  the  elegantly  turned 
shoulders  of  a  delicate-looking  southern  girl ;  and 
in  another,  a  pair  of  Cinderella-like  slippers  would 
chassez  cross  with  a  brace  of  thick-soled  broghans, 
in  making  which,  one  of  the  lost  feet  of  the  Colos- 
sus of  Rhodes  mav  have  served  for  a  last.  Those 
raven  locks,  dressed  a  la  Madonne,  over  eyes  of  jet, 
and  touching  a  cheek  where  blood  of  a  deeper 
hue,  mingling  with  the  less  glowing  current  from 
European  veins,  tell  of  a  lineage  drawn  from  the 
original  owners  of  the  soil ;  while  these  golden 
tresses,  floating  away  from  eyes  of  heaven's  own 
colour  over  a  neck  of  alabaster,  recall  the  Gothic 
ancestry  of  some  of  "  England's  born."  How 
piquantly  do  these  trim  and  beaded  leggins  peep 
from  under  that  simple  dress  of  black,  as  its  tall 
nut-brown  wearer  moves,  as  if  unconsciously, 
through  the  graceful  mazes  of  the  dance.  How 
divertingly  do  those  inflated  gigots,  rising  like 
windsails  from  that  little  Dutch-built  hull,  jar  against 
those  tall  plumes  which  impend  over  them  like  a 
commodore's  pennant  on  the  same  vessel.  But 
what  boots  all  these  incongruities,  when  a  spirit  of 
festive  good-humour  animates  every  one  present. 
"  It  takes  all  kinds  of  people  to  make  a  world"  (as 
I  hear  it  judiciously  observed  this  side  the  moun- 


240  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

tains),  and  why  should  not  all  these  kinds  of  people 
be  represented  as  well  in  a  ball-room  as  in  a  legis- 
lature ?  At  all  events,  if  I  wished  to  give  an  intel- 
ligent foreigner  a  favourable  opinion  of  the  manners 
and  deportment  of  my  countrymen  in  the  aggre- 
gate, I  should  not  wish  a  better  opportunity,  after 
explaining  to  him  the  materials  of  which  it  was 
composed,  and  the  mode  in  which  they  were  brought 
together  from  every  section  of  the  Union,  than  was 
afforded  by  this  very  ball.  "  This  is  a  scene  of 
enchantment  to  me,  sir,"  observed  an  officer  to  me, 
recently  exchanged  to  this  post,  and  formerly  sta- 
tioned here.  "  There  were  but  a  few  traders 
around  the  fort  when  I  last  visited  Chicago,  and 
now  I  can't  contrive  where  the  devil  all  these  well- 
dressed  people  have  come  from  !"  I  referred  him 
to  an  old  resident  of  three  months'  standing,  to 
whom  I  had  just  been  introduced,  but  he  could 
throw  no  light  upon  the  subject,  and  we  left  the 
matter  of  peopling  Chicago  in  the  same  place  where 
philosophers  have  put  the  question  of  the  original 
peopling  of  the  Continent.  I  made  several  new 
acquaintances  at  this  New-year's  ball,  and  particu- 
larly with  the  officers  of  the  garrison,  from  whose 
society  I  promise  myself  much  pleasure  during  my 
stay.     The  geographical  position  of  Chicago  is  so 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  241 

important  that  I  must  give  you  a  more  minute  de- 
scription of  the  place  in  my  next.  Would  that  in 
folding  this  I  could  enclose  you  half  the  warm 
wishes  for  your  welfare  which  the  season  awakens 
in  my  bosom. 


VOL.  I.— X 


242  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 


LETTER  XVIII. 

Chicago,  Illinois,  Jan.  10,  1834. 

I  have  been  here  more  than  ten  days,  without 
fulfilling  the  promise  given  in  my  last.    It  has  been 
so  cold,  indeed,  as  almost  to  render  writing  im- 
practicable in  a  place  so  comfortless.     The  houses 
were  built  with  such  rapidity,  during  the  summer, 
as  to  be  mere  shells  ;  and  the  thermometer  having 
ranged  as  low  as  28  below  zero,  during  several 
days  it  has  been  almost  impossible,  notwithstand- 
ing the  large  fires  kept  up  by  an  attentive  landlord, 
to  prevent  the  ink  from  freezing  while  using  it,  and 
one's  fingers  become  so  numb  in  a  very  few  mo- 
ments when  thus  exercised,  that,  after  vainly  trying 
to  write  in  gloves,  I  have  thrown  by  my  pen,  and 
joined  the  group,  composed  of  all  the  household, 
around  the  bar-room  fire.    This  room,  which  is  an 
old  log-cabin  aside  of  the  main  house,  is  one  of  the 
most  comfortable  places  in  town,  and  is,  of  course, 
much  frequented  ;  business  being,  so  far  as  one  can 
judge  from  the  concourse  that  throng  it,  nearly  at 
a  stand  still.     Several  persons  have  been  severely 
frost-bitten  in  passing  from  door  to  door ;  and  not 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  243 

to  mention  the  quantity  of  poultry  and  pigs 
that  have  been  frozen,  an  ox,  I  am  told,  has  per- 
ished from  cold  in  the  streets  at  noonday.  An 
occasional  Indian,*  wrapped  in  his  blanket,  and 
dodging  about  from  store  to  store  after  a  dram  of 
whiskey,  or  a  muffled-up  Frenchman,  driving  furi- 
ously in  his  cariole  on  the  river,  are  almost  the 
only  human  beings  abroad;  while  the  wolves, driven 
in  by  the  deep  snows  which  preceded  this  severe 
weather,  troop  through  the  town  after  nightfall, 
and  may  be  heard  howling  continually  in  the  midst 
of  it. 

The  situation  of  Chicago,  on  the  edge  of  the 
Grand  Prairie,  with  the  whole  expanse  of  Lake 
Michigan  before  it,  gives  the  freezing  winds  from 
the  Rocky  Mountains  prodigious  effect,  and  renders 
a  degree  of  temperature  which  in  sheltered  situa- 
tions is  but  little  felt,  almost  painful  here. 

"  The  bleak  winds 
Do  sorely  ruffle  ;  for  many  a  mile  about, 
There's  scarce  a  bush." 

The  town  lies  upon  a  dead  level,  along  the  banks 
of  a  narrow  forked  river,  and  is  spread  over  a  wide 
extent  of  surface  to  the  shores  of  the  lake,  while 
vessels  of  considerable  draught  of  water  can,  by 

*  See  note  L. 


244  A    WINTER    IN    THE    WEST. 

means  of  the  river,  unload  in  the  centre  of  the 
place.  I  believe  I  have  already  mentioned  that 
four-fifths  of  the  population  have  come  in  since  last 
spring :  the  erection  of  new  buildings  during  the 
summer  has  been  in  the  same  proportion;  and 
although  a  place  of  such  mushroom  growth  can,  of 
course,  boast  of  but  little  solid  improvement  in  the 
way  of  building,  yet  contracts  have  been  made  for 
the  ensuing  season  which  must  soon  give  Chicago 
much  of  that  metropolitan  appearance  it  is  destined 
so  promptly  to  assume.  As  a  place  of  business, 
its  situation  at  the  central  head  of  the  Mississippi 
Valley  will  make  it  the  New-Orleans  of  the  north  ; 
and  its  easy  and  close  intercourse  with  the  most 
flourishing  eastern  cities  will  give  it  the  advantage, 
as  its  capital  increases,  of  all  their  improvements 
in  the  mode  of  living. 

There  is  one  improvement  to  be  made,  however, 
in  this  section  of  the  country,  which  will  greatly 
influence  the  permanent  value  of  property  in  Chi- 
cago. I  allude  to  a  canal  from  the  head  of  Lake 
Michigan  to  the  head  of  steam  navigation  on  the 
Illinois,  the  route  of  which  has  been  long  since  sur- 
veyed. The  distance  to  be  overcome  is  something 
like  ninety  miles ;  and  when  you  remember  that 
the  head-waters  of  the  Illinois  rise  within  eleven 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  245 

miles  of  Chicago  River,*  and  that  a  level  plain  of 
not  more  than  eisrht  feet  elevation  above  the  latter 
is  the  only  intervening  obstacle,  you  can  conceive 
how  easy  it  would  be  to  drain  Lake  Michigan  into 
the  Mississippi  by  this  route ;  boats  of  eighteen 
tons  having  actually  passed  over  the  intervening 
prairie  at  high  water.  Lake  Michigan,  which  is 
several  feet  or  more  above  Lake  Erie,  would  afford 
such  a  never-failing  body  of  water  that  it  would 
keep  steamboats  afloat  on  the  route  in  the  driest 
season.  St.  Louis  would  then  be  brought  com- 
paratively near  to  New- York,  while  two-thirds  of 
the  Mississippi  Valley  would  be  supplied  by  this 
route  immediatelv  from  the  markets  of  the  latter. 
This  canal  is  the  only  remaining  link  wanting  to 
complete  the  most  stupendous  chain  of  inland  com- 
munication in  the  world.  I  had  a  long  conversa- 
tion this  morning,  on  the  subject,  with  Major  H., 
the  United  States'  engineer,  who  is  engaged  in 
superintending  the  construction  of  a  pier  at  this 
place.  He  was  polite  enough  to  sketch  the  main 
features  of  the  route  with  his  pencil,  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  make  its  feasibility  very  apparent. 
The  canal  would  pass  for  the  whole  distance 
through  a  prairie  country,  where  every  production 
of  the  field  and  the  garden  can  be  raised  with 

*  See  note  M, 

x  2 


246  A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

scarcely  any  toil,  and  where  the  most  prolific  soil 
in  the  world  requires  no  other  preparation  for 
planting  than  passing  the  plough  over  its  bosom. 
The  most  effectual  mode  of  making  this  canal 
would  be  to  give  the  lands  along  its  banks  to  an 
incorporated  company,  who  should  construct  the 
work  within  a  certain  time.  The  matter  is  now 
merely  agitated  at  elections  as  a  political  handle. 

January  13. 

I  had  got  thus  far  in  a  letter  to  you,  when  several 
officers  of  the  garrison,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for 
much  hospitable  attention  and  many  agreeable 
hours,  stopped  opposite  the  door  with  a  train  of 
carioles,  in  one  of  which  I  was  offered  a  seat,  to 
witness  a  pacing-match  on  the  ice.  There  were 
several  ladies  with  gentlemen  in  attendance  already 
on  the  river,  all  muffled  up,  after  the  Canadian 
fashion,  in  fur  robes,  whose  gay  trimmings  pre- 
sented a  rich  as  well  as  most  comfortable  appear- 
ance. The  horses,  from  which  the  most  sport  was 
expected,  were  a  black  pony  bred  in  the  country, 
and  a  tall  roan  nag  from  the  lower  Mississippi. 
They  paced  at  the  rate  of  a  mile  in  something  less 
than  three  minutes.  I  rode  behind  the  winning 
horse  one  heat,  and  the  velocity  with  which  he 
made  our  cariole  fly  over  the  smooth  ice  was 
almost  startling.     The   southern  horse  won    the 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  247 

race ;  but  I  was  told  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 
the  nags  from  his  part  of  the  country  could  not 
stand  against  a  French  pony. 

In  the  middle  of  the  chase,  a  wolf,  probably 
roused  by  the  sleigh-bells  from  his  lair  on  the  river's 
bank,  trotted  along  the  prairie  above,  within  gun- 
shot, calmly  surveying  the  sport.  The  uninvited 
presence  of  this  long-haired  amateur  at  once  sug- 
gested a  hunt  for  the  morrow,  and  arrangements 
were  accordingly  made,  by  the  several  gentlemen 
present,  for  that  most  exciting  of  sports,  a  wolf- 
chase  on  horseback. 

I  was  not  present  at  the  assembling  of  the  hunt  ; 
and  the  first  intimation  I  had  of  the  game  being 
afoot,  was  from  hearing  the  cry  of  hounds  and  the 
shouting  of  a  party  of  horsemen,  as  they  clattered 
along  the  frozen  river,  with  two  prairie  wolves  and 
one  gray  wolf  running  at  full  speed,  about  a  pistol- 
shot  ahead  of  them.  One  wolf  was  killed,  and  an- 
other had  made  his  escape,  before  I  joined  the  party. 
But  the  third,  the  gray  wolf,  which  had  struck  ofF 
into  the  prairie,  was  still  fresh  when  I  came  into 
the  hunt  with  an  untired  horse.  But  one  of  the 
hunters  had  been  able  to  keep  up  with  him,  and 
him  I  could  distinguish  a  mile  off  in  the  prairie, 
turning  and  winding  his  foaming  horse  as  the  wolf 
would  double  every  moment  upon  his  tracks,  while 


248  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

half  a  dozen  dogs,  embarrassed  in  the  deep  snow, 
were  slowly  coming  up.  I  reached  the  spot  just 
as  the  wolf  first  stood  at  bay.  His  bristling  back, 
glaring  eyes,  and  ferociously  distended  jaws  might 
have  appalled  the  dogs  for  a  moment,  when  an  im- 
petuous greyhound,  who  had  been  for  some  time 
pushing  through  the  snow-drifts  w7ith  unabated  in- 
dustry, having  now  attained  a  comparatively  clear 
spot  of  ground,  leaped  with  such  force  against  the 
flank  of  the  wolf  as  to  upset  him  in  an  instant, 
while  the  greyhound  shot  far  ahead  of  the  quarry. 
He  recovered  himself  instantly,  but  not  before 
a  fierce,  powerful  hound,  whose  thick  neck  and 
broad  muzzle  indicated  a  cross  of  the  bull-dog 
blood  with  that  of  a  nobler  strain,  had  struck  him 
first  upon  the  haunch,  and  was  now  trying  to 
grapple  him  by  the  throat.  Down  again  he  went, 
rolling  over  and  over  in  the  deep  snow,  while  the 
clicking  of  his  jaws,  as  he  snapped  eagerly  at  each 
member  of  the  pack  that  by  turns  beset  him,  was 
distinctly  audible.  The  powerful  dog,  already 
mentioned,  secured  him  at  last,  by  fixing  his  muzzle 
deeply  into  the  breast  of  the  prostrate  animal. 
This,  however,  did  not  prevent  the  wolf  giving  some 
fearful  wounds  to  the  other  dogs  which  beset  him  ; 
and,  accordingly,  with  the  permission  of  the  gentle- 
man who  had  led  the  chase.  1  threw  mvself  from 


A    WINTER     IN    THE     WEST.  249 

my  horse,  and  gave  the  game  the  coup  de  grace 
with  a  dirk-knife  which  I  carried  about  me.  The 
success  of  this  hunt  induced  us,  upon  the  spot,  to 
appoint  another  for  this  day. 

It  was  a  fine   bracing  morning,  with  the  sun 
shining  cheerily  through  the  still  cold  atmosphere 
far  over  the  snow-covered  prairie,  when  the  party 
assembled  in  front  of  my  lodgings,  to  the  number 
of  ten  horsemen,  all  well  mounted  and  eager  for 
the  sport.     The  hunt  was  divided  into  two  squads  ; 
one  of  which  was  to  follow  the  windings  of  the 
river  on  the  ice,  and  the  other  to  make  a  circuit 
on  the  prairie.     A  pack  of  dogs,  consisting  of  a 
greyhound   or  two  for   running   the  game,  with 
several  of  a  heavier  and  fiercer  breed  for  pulling 
it  down,  accompanied  each  party.    I  was  attached 
to  that  which  took  the  river ;  and  it  was  a  beau- 
tiful sight,  as  our  friends  trotted  off  in  the  prairie, 
to  see  their  different  coloured  capotes  and  gayly 
equipped  horses  contrasted  with  the  bright  carpet 
of  spotless  white  over  which  they  rode,  while  the 
sound  of  their  voices  was  soon  lost  to  our  ears, 
as  we  descended  to  the  channel  of  the  river,  and 
their  lessening  figures  were  hid  from  our  view  by 
the   low  brush  which  in  some  places  skirted  its 
banks.     The  brisk  trot  in  which  we  now  broke, 
brought  us  rapidly  to  the  place  of  meeting ;  where, 


250  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

to  the  disappointment  of  each  party,  it  was  found 
that   neither   had   started   any   game.     We   now 
spread  ourselves  into  a  broad  line,  about  gunshot 
apart  from  each  other,  and  began  thus  advancing 
into  the  prairie.     We  had  not  swept  it  thus  more 
than  a  mile,  when  a  shout  on  the  extreme  left,  with 
the  accelerated  pace  of  the  two  furthermost  riders 
in  that  direction,  told  that  thev  had  roused  a  wolf. 
"  The   devil  take  the   hindermost,"  was   now  the 
motto  of  the  company,  and  each  one  spurred  for 
the  spot  with  all  eagerness.     Unhappily,  however, 
the  land  along  the  bank  of  the  river,  on  the  right, 
was  so  broken  by  ravines,  choked  up  with  snow, 
that  it  was  impossible  for  us,  who  were  half  a  mile 
from  the  game  when  started,  to  come  up  at  all 
with  the  two  or  three  horsemen  who  led  the  pur- 
suit.    Onr  horses  sunk  to  their  cruppers  in  the 
deep  snow-drift.     Some  were  repeatedly  thrown  ; 
and  one  or  two,  breaking  their  saddle-girths,  from 
the  desperate  struggles  their  horses  made  in  the 
snow-banks,  were  compelled  to  abandon  the  chase 
entirely.      My    stout   roan    carried   me    bravely 
through   all;  but  when  I  emerged  from  the  last 
ravine  on  the  open  plain,  the  two  horsemen  who 
led  the  chase,  from  some  inequality  in  the  surface 
of  the  prairie,  were  not  visible  ;  while  the  third,  a 
fleet  rider,  whose  tall  figure  and  Indian  headdress 


A    WINTER     IN    THE     WEST.  251 

had  hitherto  guided  me,  had  been  just  unhorsed, 
and  abandoning  the  game  afoot,  was  now  wheeling 
off  apparently  with  some  other  object  in  view. 
Following  on  the  same  course,  we  soon  encoun- 
tered a  couple  of  officers  in  a  train,  who  were  just 
coming  from  a  mission  of  charity  in  visiting  the 
half-starved  orphans  of  a  poor  woman,  who  was 
frozen  to  death  on  the  prairie  a  day  or  two  since — 
the  wolves  having  already  picked  her  bones  before 
her  fate  became  known.  One  by  one,  our  whole 
party  collected  around  to  make  inquiries  about 
the  poor  children,  and  the  two  fortunate  hunters 
soon  after  joined  us,  one  of  them  with  a  large 
prairie  wolf  hanging  to  the  saddle-bow. 

It  was  now  about  eleven  o'clock  ;  we  were 
only  twelve  miles  from  Chicago ;  and  though  we 
had  kept  up  a  pretty  round  pace,  considering  the 
depth  of  the  snow,  in  coursing  backward  and  for- 
ward since  eight,  our  horses  generally  were  yet  in 
good  condition,  and  we  scattered  once  more  over 
the  prairie,  with  the  hope  of  rousing  more  game. 

Not  ten  minutes  elapsed  before  a  wolf,  breaking 
from  the  dead  weeds  which,  shooting  eight  or  ten 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  snow,  indicated  the  banks 
of  a  deep  ravine,  dashed  off  into  the  prairie  pursued 
by  a  horseman  on  the  right.  He  made  instantly 
for  the  deep  banks  of  the  river,  one  of  whose  wind- 


252  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

ings  was  within  a  few  hundred  yards.  He  had  a 
bold  rider  behind  him,  however,  in  the  gentleman 
who  led  the  chase  (a  young  educated  half-blood, 
of  prepossessing  manners,  and  well  connected  at 
Chicago).  The  precipitous  bank  of  the  stream 
did  not  retard  this  hunter  for  a  moment,  but  dash- 
ing down  to  the  bed  of  the  river,  he  was  hard  upon 
the  wolf  before  he  could  ascend  the  elevation  on  the 
opposite  side.  Four  of  us  only  reached  the  open 
prairie  beyond  in  time  to  take  part  in  the  chase. 
Nothing  could  be  more  beautiful.  There  was  not 
an  obstacle  to  oppose  us  in  the  open  plain  ;  and  all 
our  dogs  having  long  since  given  out,  nothing  re- 
mained but  to  drive  the  wolf  to  death  on  horse- 
back. Away,  then,  we  went,  shouting  on  his 
track ;  the  hotly  pursued  beast  gaining  on  us 
whenever  the  crust  of  a  deep  snow-drift  gave  him 
an  advantage  over  the  horse,  and  we  in  our  turn 
nearly  riding  over  him  when  we  came  to  ground 
comparatively  bare.  The  sagacious  animal  be- 
came at  last  aware  that  his  course  would  soon  be  up 
at  this  rate,  and  turning  rapidly  in  his  tracks  as  we 
were  scattered  over  the  prairie,  he  passed  through 
our  line  and  made  at  once  again  for  the  river.  He 
was  cut  off,  and  turned  in  a  moment,  by  a  horse- 
man on  the  left,  who  happened  to  be  a  little  behind 
the  rest ;  and  now  came  the  keenest  part  of  the 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  253 

sport.  The  wolf  would  double  every  moment  upon 
his  tracks,  while  each  horseman  in  succession  would 
make  a  dash  at,  and  turn  him  in  a  different  direction. 
Twice  I  was  near  enough  to  strike  him  with  a  horse- 
whip, and  once  he  was  under  my  horse's  feet ;  while 
so  furiously  did  each  rider  push  at  him,  that  as  we 
brushed  by  each  other  and  confronted  horse  to  horse, 
while  riding  from  different  quarters  at  full  speed,  it 
required  one  somewhat  used  "  to  turn  and  wind  a 
fiery  Pegasus"  to  maintain  his  scat  at  all.  The 
rascal,  who  would  now  and  then  look  over  his 
shoulder,  and  gnash  his  teeth,  seemed  at  last  as 
if  he  was  about  to  succumb — when,  after  running  a 
few  hundred  yards  in  an  oblique  direction  from  the 
river,  he  suddenly  veered  his  course,  at  a  moment 
when  every  one  thought  his  strength  was  spent;  and 
gaining  the  bank  before  he  could  be  turned,  he  dis- 
appeared in  an  instant.  The  rider  nearest  to  his 
heels  became  entangled  in  the  low  boughs  of  a  tree 
which  grew  near  the  spot ;  while  I,  who  followed 
next,  was  thrown  out  sufficiently  to  give  the  wolf 
time  to  get  out  of  view,  by  my  horse  bolting  as  he 
reached  the  sudden  edge  of  the  river.  The  rest  of 
the  hunt  were  consequently  at  fault  when  they 
came  up  to  us ;  and  after  trying  in  vain  to  track 
our  lost  quarry  over  the  smooth  ice  for  half  an 
hour,   we   were  most    vexatiously   compelled   to 

VOL.   I. Y 


254  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

abandon  the  pursuit  as  fruitless,  and  return  to  the 
village  with  only  one  scalp  as  the  reward  of  our 
morning's  labour. 

It  was  with  no  enviable  feelings,  I  assure  you, 
that,  on  making  my  arrangements,  an  hour  ago,  to 
start  in  the  new  line  of  stage-coaches  which  has  just 
been  established  between  this  point  and  St.  Louis,  I 
found  myself  compelled  to  part  with  the  friend  to 
whom  I  was  chiefly  indebted  for  my  share  in  the 
glorious  sports  I  have  just  attempted  to  describe 
to  you — the  four-footed  companion  of  my  last  six 
weeks'  rambles.  I  remember  being  once  struck 
with  the  remark  of  an  ingenious  writer,  in  the  Li- 
brary of  Useful  Knowledge,  when,  in  discussing 
the  real  and  the  relative  value  of  horses,  he  observes 
that  the  commonest  hackney,  if  in  every  respect 
suiting  his  owner,  is  priceless  to  the  possessor.  A 
favourite  horse,  in  fact,  though  his  estimation  may 
only  depend  upon  the  whim  of  his  master,  is  one  of 
this  world's  goods  which  can  never  be  thoroughly 
replaced.  It  is  not,  however,  when  the  charge  of 
such  property  falls  exclusively  to  grooms  and  others, 
from  one  end  of  the  year  to  another,  that  you  feel 
its  value.  The  stall-fed  palfry,  which  you  drive 
along  a  turnpike  from  one  hotel  to  another,  and 
abandon  when  he  falls  sick  for  some  other  means 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  255 


• 


of  conveyance,  with  as  little  concern  as  you  would 
exchange  your  trunk  for  a  portmanteau,  or  vice 
versa,  has  but  little  hold  on  one's  feelings  in  com- 
parison with  the  hearty  animal  with  which  you 
wander  away,  where  he  meets  with  no  care  but 
such  as  you  bestow  upon  him  ;  and  when  you  in 
turn  become  wholly  dependent  upon  him  for  over- 
coming distances  and  difficulties  between  places  so 
remote  from  each  other,  that  not  only  your  comfort, 
but  sometimes  your  personal  safety,  depend  upon 
accomplishing  the  intervals  within  certain  periods 
— when  you  push  ahead  through  falling  sleet,  ford 
rivers,  plunge  through  snow-banks,  or  cross  mo- 
rasses, where  the  matted  grass,  spreading  its  carpet 
over  the  shaking  slough,  embarrasses  and  wearies 
the  step  of  your  sagacious  quadruped,  while  it  pre- 
vents his  feet  from  sinking  into  the  dangerous  quag- 
mire beneath.  Three  weeks  of  such  intercourse 
between  man  and  brute  are  like  three  rainy  days 
when  one  is  shut  up  in  a  country-house  with 
strangers.  They  cherish  a  fellowship  more  cordial 
than  years  of  ordinary  intercourse  could  engender. 
It  is  no  Httle  consolation  to  me  that  I  leave  my 
Bucephalus  in  excellent  hands ;  nor  does  this 
necessary  separation  so  engross  my  sympathies 
that  I  have  none  to  spare  for  other  partings.    Upon 


256  A     WINTER      IN     THE      WEST. 

these,  however,  I  shall  not  dilate  here,  though  you 
must  not  be  surprised  to  find  me  returning  more 
than  once  hereafter  to  characters,  scenes,  and  in- 
cidents at  Chicago  which  I  have  hitherto  left  un- 
touched. 


A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  257 


LETTER  XIX. 

Banks  of  the  Au  Sable,  Illinois,  Jan.  15. 

It  was  about  eight  o'clock,  and  a  bright  cold 
morning,  when  a  handsome  four-horse  stage-coach, 
built  in  New- York,  and  placed  with  more  liberality 
than  judgment  on  a  route  where  a  broad-tired,  low- 
hung,  and  light  wagon  would  be  much  more  appro- 
priate,— drove  up  to  my  quarters  at  Chicago  ;  and, 
having  received  my  luggage,  crossed  the  river  on 
the  ice,  and  was  a  few  moments  after  travelling 
through  the  deep  snow  over  the  Grand  Prairie. 
My  fellow-passengers  were,  a  respectable  middle- 
aged  female  and  a  smartly  dressed  young  man  of 
amiable  appearance,  whose  handsome  broadcloth 
suit,  worn  as  a  travelling  dress,  bespoke  the  favoured 
beau  of  some  country  village,  or  possibly  a  thriving 
young  clerk  from  the  city,  engaged  upon  some 
agency  business,  and  travelling  in  the  style  which 
he  thought  would  best  comport  with  the  dignity  of 
his  employers.  The  driver  was  also  accompanied 
on  the  box  by  a  well-made  young  half-blood  Chip- 

peway  of  about  five-and-twenty,  who  had  come 

Y  2 


258  A    WINTER    IN    THE    WEST. 

down  from  Mackinaw  to  seek  employment,  and 
was  now  going  farther  south  for  the  same  object. 
The  air  being  rather  sharp  on  the  prairie,  the  lady 
took  her  seat  between  the  young  gentleman  and 
myself,  and  thus  wedged  in  together,  we  contrived 
to  keep  very  comfortable ;  though  our  near  neigh- 
bourhood did  not  render  us  more  communicative 
than  people  generally  are  after  an  early  breakfast. 
We  merely  exchanged  the  ordinary  commonplaces 
which  custom  exacts  from  people  thus  thrown  to- 
gether ;  and  then,  unless  when  a  wolf  passing  near 
our  track,  or  a  particularly  large  pack  of  grouse 
rising  before  us,  called  forth  some  exclamation,  but 
few  words  were  spoken  by  any  of  the  company. 
At  length,  after  having  counted  six  wolves  within 
twice  as  many  miles,  we  approached  a  grove  of 
timber,  where,  while  the  trees  grew  quite  densely 
in  the  centre,  a  few  thin  rows  shot  out  like  a  reef 
of  rocks  from  the  shadowy  island  far  into  the  prai- 
rie.    Here,  on  the  edge  of  a  deep  gully,  through 
which  winds  the  River  Au  Plaine,  was  the   log- 
tavern  at  which  the  first  stage  of  our  day's  journey, 
being  twelve  miles,  concluded.     The  horses  were 
in  a  complete  foam  with  their  exertions  in  getting 
through  the  deep  snow-drifts  across  the  prairie,  and 
I   easily   persuaded  the    driver   to    abandon   the 
comfortable  but  cumbersome  vehicle  which  had 


A     WINTER     IN     THE    WEST.  259 

brought  us  so  far,  and  hitch  his  smoking  team,  which 
had  still  twelve  miles  to  go,  to  a  rough  but  strongly- 
built  sled  before  the  door.  My  fellow-passengers 
approved  the  arrangement,  and  subsequent  events 
proved  it  a  very  fortunate  one ;  for  so  deep  was 
the  snow  on  many  parts  of  the  road  afterward 
traversed,  that  it  would  have  been  impracticable 
to  get  a  wheel-carriage  forward,  and  it  must  have 
been  deserted  on  the  prairie.  There  was  much  to 
do,  however,  about  our  new  equipage,  before  we 
could  get  started ;  and  while  our  driver  looked 
after  his  horses,  one  of  the  passengers  had  to  shovel 
the  snow  out  of  the  sleigh,  another  to  drive  a  pin 
through  the  tongue  in  order  to  fasten  on  the 
leaders  ;  and  a  third,  after  filling  the  bottom  with 
hay,  to  adjust  the  baggage,  &c.  &c.  All  this, 
with  the  aid  of  the  stout  Chippeway  and  the  active 
young  eastern  traveller,  was  soon  effected;  and 
the  former  taking  his  seat  with  the  driver  on  a 
board  in  front,  while  the  latter  shared  half  of  mv 
buffalo  robes,  and  stowed  himself  upon  the  hay  with 
me  in  the  rear ;  madame  was  well  accommodated, 
with  the  cushions  taken  from  the  stage,  on  a  trunk 
placed  in  the  middle  ;  and  some  heated  stones  be- 
ing brought  from  the  house  and  placed  beneath  her 
feet  just  as  we  started,  no  grandmother  could  sit 
more  comfortably  in  her  cushioned  pew  in  old 


260  A    WINTER     IN     THE    WEST. 

Trinity.  A  fast  drive  of  twelve  miles  brought  us 
at  noon  to  another  island  of  timber,  where  a  little 
piquant  girl  of  sixteen,  with  sloe-black  eyes  and 
glossy  locks  as  dark  as  night,  arranged  a  plain  but 
neat  meal  for  us,  and  gave  a  relish  to  the  entertain- 
ment by  loosing  one  of  the  most  vivacious  tongues 
I  had  heard  wag  in  the  last  three  months.  Here 
we  changed  horses,  and  a  ride  of  sixteen  miles 
more  brought  us  about  nightfall  to  a  place  called 
"  Walker's  Grave,"  where  two  or  three  log-huts 
were  sheltered  from  the  north  wind  under  an 
island  of  tall  timber,  and  in  one  of  which  we  have 
established  ourselves  for  the  night.  A  pile  of  bur- 
oak,  which  makes  a  capital  fire,  flames  up  the 
enormous  wooden  chimney  before  me,  and  a  num- 
ber of  stout  yeomen  around  it,  engaged  in  discuss- 
ing the  price  of  horses  on  the  Wabash,  prevent  me, 
while  handling  a  matter  of  such  moment,  from  en- 
larging more  upon  the  few  objects  of  interest 
which  have  presented  themselves  to-day. 

Ottawa,  Illinois,  January  IS. 

I  was  hardly  dressed  this  morning,  when  my 
only  remaining  fellow-traveller — the  lady  and  the 
half-blood  having  parted  compan)7  last  evening — 
called  me  to  the  door  to  "  see  the  cloud  of  prairie 
hens  before  it."     I  looked  out,  and  there  indeed, 


A     WINTER     IN     THE      WEST.  261 

true  enough,  the  oaks  within  gunshot  of  the  porch 
were  so  loaded  with  grouse,  that  they  showed 
more  like  a  flock  of  pigeons  than  a  covey  of  game 
birds.  Having  broken  my  gun,  however,  it  was 
intolerably  vexatious  to  see  such  capital  shots 
thrown  away,  while  these  fine  birds  in  those  dis- 
tricts where  I  was  prepared  to  bag  them  were  too 
wild  to  approach  within  shooting  distance  at  all. 
The  sleigh  soon  after  came  to  the  door,  our  driver 
having  diminished  his  team  by  two  horses,  to  meet, 
probably,  the  reduction  of  passengers  already  men- 
tioned ;  and  about  a  hundred  yards  from  the  house 
we  crossed  a  broad  brook,  known  as  the  Au  Sable 
River,  and  commenced  ascending  the  bank  beyond. 
But  the  snow  was  deep,  and  the  heavy  drift  having 
had  its  surface  frozen  over  during  the  preceding 
night,  our  single  pair  of  horses  were  unable  to  drag 
through  it  the  clumsy  sled  behind  them.  They 
plunged  in  up  to  their  chests.  "Go  ahead,  Sam  ! 
gie  up,  Major  !"  shouted  the  driver.  But  Sam  was 
thoroughly  planted  ;  while  the  Major,  in  trying  to 
sustain  his  military  character  by  obeying  orders, 
gave  one  spring,  and,  floundering  over  the  traces, 
was  buried  in  the  snow  up  to  his  crupper,  and 
placed,  nolens  volens,  in  full  as  quiescent  a  condi- 
tion as  the  already  settled  Sam.  For  all  of  us  to 
get  out  and  take  hold  of  the  bits  was  the  next 


262  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

move  ;  but  it  wouldn't  do.  Sam,  indeed,  seemed 
a  little  inclined  to  make  a  retrograde  movement, 
bv  kicking  out  the  footboard  with  his  heels ;  while 
the  Major,  having  gathered  new  energy  for  another 
charge,  wasted  his  fire  in  lifting  up  his  knees  as 
high  as  his  mouth,  and  ineffectually  throwing  his 
fore  hoofs  in  advance  on  the  crusted  snow  ;  hand- 
ling his  feet  the  while  much  after  the  manner  of 
the  rampant  unicorn  on  a  calico  stamp,  who,  un- 
mindful of  the  mottoed  garter  he  treads  under  his 
foot,  so  bravely  paws  the  crown  which  the  com- 
plaisant lion  is  pushing  towards  him.  The  driver 
at  last  became  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  re- 
turning for  another  pair  of  horses ;  and  a  young 
colt  called  Blackhawk,  with  a  hoary  old  plough- 
horse  named  Judge,  were,  after  a  little  delay,  pro- 
cured, and  placed  in  advance  of  Sam  and  the 
Major  on  the  top  of  the  bank.  Poor  Sam  seemed 
to  dislike  having  the  Judge's  fetlocks  brought  so 
immediately  in  contact  with  his  nose,  they  being 
nearly  on  a  horizontal  line  ;  and  he  was  accord- 
ingly inclined  to  retreat  upon  his  haunches,  beneath 
which  the  snow  formed  so  easy  a  cushion  ;  but  a 
single  crack  from  the  driver's  whip  sent  the  Major 
charging  so  vigorously  upon  Blackhawk,  that  the 
sable  young  chief  gave  a  bound  which  carried  us 
through  the  difficulty  in  a  trice,  and  sent  our  vehi- 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  263 

cle  skimming  far  over  the  prairie.  The  grove 
in  which  we  had  passed  the  night  soon  vanished 
from  sight,  and  a  boundless  expanse  of  snow- 
covered  surface  lay  like  an  ocean  before  us.  The 
arch  of  the  clear  blue  sky  seemed  to  spring  at 
once  from  the  silvered  earth,  which  shone  under 
the  bright  January  sun  with  an  intensity  almost 
painful  to  the  eye.  The  blue  vault  above,  and  the 
white  plain  below,  were  the  only  objects  that  met 
its  glances,  as  they  roamed  for  miles  around  :  yet 
no  one  could  complain  of  sameness  in  the  tints  of 
a  picture  so  vast,  a  scene  so  illimitable.  The  im- 
mensity of  the  prospect  seemed  to  exclude  the  idea 
of  monotony,  and  perfect  solitude  was  only  want- 
ing in  such  a  scene  to  make  one  feel  its  grandeur. 
The  lively  rattle  of  my  companion,  however,  whose 
society,  after  travelling  so  long  entirely  alone,  I 
found  no  slight  acquisition,  prevented  me  from 
realizing  its  full  effect ;  and  when,  after  riding  for 
about  twelve  miles,  an  island  of  timber  hove  in 
sight,  while  the  beautiful  sky  of  the  morning 
clouded  over,  and  the  cold  wind,  which  began  to 
set  in  from  the  west,  indicated  that  the  twelve 
miles  we  had  yet  to  travel  before  we  should  reach 
the  first  house  across  this  arm  of  the  prairie  would 
be  any  thing  but  agreeable, — I  was  contented  to 
wrap  myself  as  closely  as  possible  in  my  buffalo 


264  A     WINTER     IN    THE     WEST. 

robe,  and  join  him  in  a  game  of  prairie  loo.  Lest 
you  might  search  vainly  in  Hoyle  for  this  pastime, 
I  must  inform  you  that  the  game  consists  merely 
in  betting  upon  the  number  of  wild  animals  seen 
by  either  party,  towards  the  side  of  the  vehicle  on 
which  he  is  riding,  a  wolf  or  deer  counting  ten,  and 
a  grouse  one.  The  game  is  a  hundred  ;  and  you 
may  judge  of  the  abundance  of  these  animals  from 
our  getting  through  several  games  before  dinner, 
— my  companion  looing  me  with  eleven  wolves. 
Some  of  these  fellows  would  stand  looking  at  us, 
within  half-gunshot,  as  we  rode  by  them  ;  while 
the  grouse  would  rise  continually  from  under  our 
very  horses'  feet. 

Before  we  had  got  through  the  twenty-four 
miles,  the  scene  enacted  at  starting  was  to  be  re- 
peated with  improvement ;  for  on  coming  to  the 
edge  of  a  frozen  gully,  our  two  leaders,  in  their 
anxiety  to  avoid  former  difficulties,  gave  such  a 
spring  that  they  sunk  through  the  ice  to  their 
shoulders,  on  the  opposite  side ;  while  the  wheel- 
horses,  being  thrown  down,  were  driven  by  the 
runners  of  the  sleigh  against  the  sharp  edges  of 
the  ice  thus  exposed,  and  one  of  them  was  terribly 
lacerated.  It  was  the  unfortunate  Sam,  who,  poor 
fellow,  not  having  been  watered  since  the  morning, 
lay  quietly  on  his  side  in  the  traces,  with  his  fore- 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  265 

legs  up  the  slope,  and  his  hinder  ones  in  the  pool, 
eating  the  snow  thus  brought  in  contact  with  his 
mouth,  apparently  perfectly  unconscious  of  his 
wounds.  Blackhawk  and  the  Judge,  of  course, 
came  to  an  anchor  when  they  found  such  an  accu- 
mulated weight  dragging  behind  them ;  while  the 
spirited  Major  seemed  to  be  thoroughly  dejected 
at  this  second  discomfiture,  and  allowed  us  to  turn 
him  over  and  put  him  on  his  feet  with  scarcely 
the  interposition  of  a  struggle.  Not  far  from  the 
scene  of  this  catastrophe  we  crossed  the  Au  Page, 
a  narrow  stream,  with  smooth  banks,  utterly  di- 
vested of  shrubbery ;  and  after,  in  the  next  eight 
miles,  encountering  two  or  three  tremendous  snow- 
banks, where  our  horses  were  frequently  immersed 
to  their  cruppers,  and  whence  nothing  but  the 
leaders,  from  their  firm  footing  beyond,  dragging 
the  wheel-horses  through  the  heavy  drift,  could 
have  extricated  us,  we  reached  a  beautiful  grove 
of  elms  and  oaks,  and  stopped  to  change  our  worn- 
out  team. 

Entering  a  log-cabin,  not  at  all  differing  from 
the  usual  dwellings  of  the  frontier  settlers,  I  found 
a  choice  collection  of  books  in  one  corner, — a  vol- 
ume, a  fine  old  edition,  of  Algernon  Sidney's  works 
being  the  first  book  I  took  up ;  and  upon  entering 
into  conversation  with  the  occupants  of  the  cabin, 

VOL.  I. Z 


266  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

I  found  that  degree  of  general  cultivation  which, 
though  not  unfrequently  met  with  on  the  frontier, 
still  always  strikes  a  stranger  with  novelty;  and 
yet,  I  know  no  reason  why  the  fullest  expanding 
of  the  intellect  is  incompatible  with  the  handling 
of  an  axe,  or  the  most  luxuriant  development  of 
the  imagination  with  following  the  plough.  The 
farmer,  of  all  operatives,  has,  perhaps,  the  most 
time  for  improvement ;  and  when  he  dwells  in  a 
land  where,  while  Nature  showers  her  choicest 
bounties,  man  passes  towards  it  from  every  side, 
and  contributes  on  his  new  coming  to  the  general 
stock  of  ideas,  keeping,  by  this  lively  interchange, 
those  already  afloat  in  active  circulation,  there  is 
every  thing  in  his  circumstances  to  make  him  acute 
and  reflective,  and  to  liberalize  his  mind,  if  not  to 
polish  his  manners. 

It  would  be  giving  you  a  wrong  impression, 
however,  did  I  allow  you  to  gather  from  this,  that 
the  oldest  western  settlers  of  this  country  are  by 
any  means  so  familiar  with  books  as  the  emigrants 
from  the  east ;  for  among  the  latter  there  are 
many  persons  of  altered  circumstances,  who,  having 
once  enjoyed  better  opportunities  for  literary  cul- 
ture, carry  the  traces  of  their  old  habits  with  them 
into  the  new  scenes  to  which  they  so  readily 
adapt  themselves.     Fluency  of  language,  with  an 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  267 

ease  and  power  of  expression  which  sometimes 
swells  to  the  dignity  of  eloquence,  and  often  dis- 
plays itself  in  terms  of  originality,  at  once  humorous 
and  forcible,  constitute  the  conversational  resources 
of  the  western  man ;  but  as  his  knowledge  is 
gathered  almost  altogether  from  conversation,  he 
wants  that  exact  acquaintance  with  facts  and  things 
which  enriches  the  intellectual  armory  of  his  eastern 
brother,  in  a  similar  situation  of  life.  My  opportu- 
nities as  yet  of  forming  an  opinion  might,  perhaps, 
be  questioned  by  one  who  did  not  know  that  the 
southern  part  of  Michigan  and  the  northern  sec- 
tions of  Illinois  are  settled  by  people  from  almost 
every  State  in  the  Union.  Having  now  traversed 
them  both,  I  may  venture  the  above  observation, 
at  least  with  you. 

A  dinner  of  grouse  at  this  place  came  very 
opportunely  after  our  keen  ride  of  twenty-four 
miles  over  the  prairie  without  once  stopping  ;  and, 
by  way  of  varying  our  customary  fare  of  bacon 
and  corn-bread  along  the  road,  we  purchased  a 
few  brace  of  these  fine  birds  for  a  mere  trifle,  there 
being  at  hand  a  coopful  of  them  just  caught  alive 
upon  the  premises. 

It  was  just  sunset  when,  after  riding  about  thir- 
teen miles  over  a  dreary-looking  prairie,  we  came 
suddenly  to  one  of  those  steppes  into  which  these 


268  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

singular  plains  sometimes  break  so  beautifully; 
and,  looking  down  over  two  broad  platforms, 
which  successively  projected  their  flat  surfaces  and 
angular  edges  below  us,  beheld  the  Illinois  River 
winding  through  the  lowest  meadow,  and  receiving 
its  tributary,  the  Fox  River,  opposite  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Ottawa.  It  seemed  to  repose  upon  a  rich 
alluvial  flat,  with  the  rocky  bluffs  of  the  Illinois 
rising  in  a  regular  line  to  the  height  of  seventy  or 
eighty  feet  immediately  in  the  rear,  while  their 
rugged  and  varying  outline,  both  above  and  below, 
towered  opposite  to  a  much  greater  height.  The 
warm  light  of  the  setting  sun  resting  upon  their 
mossy  edges,  and  touching  with  freshness  an  ever- 
green that  sprouted  here  and  there  among  the 
cliffs,  while  the  rising  mists  of  evening  imparted  a 
bluish  tint  to  the  distant  windings  of  the  smooth 
valley  below,  gave  an  Italian  softness  to  the  land- 
scape, but  little  in  unison  with  the  icy  rigours  that 
enchained  the  streams  to  which  in  summer  it  must 
owe  its  greatest  beauty.  A  mile  or  two  farther 
brought  us  over  the  frozen  river  to  the  comfort- 
able frame-house  from  which  this  letter  is  dated. 

Ottawa,  which  is  situated  a  few  miles  above  the 
head  of  steamboat  navigation  on  the  Illinois,  is, 
from  its  central  situation,  gradually  becoming  a 
place  of  some  commercial  importance,  though  still 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  269 

a  mere  hamlet  in  size.  It  was  within  six  miles  of 
this  place  that  the  worst  of  the  Indian  horrors  were 
perpetrated  during  the "  difficulties  with  the  Sacs 
and  Foxes  in  1832.  You  must  remember  the 
newspaper  accounts  of  every  member  of  two  fami- 
lies being  butchered,  except  two  young  girls,  who 
were  carried  into  captivity,  and  afterward  recov- 
ered from  the  Indians.*  There  was  a  singular 
fatality  attending  this  melancholy  affair,  which 
makes  it  worth  while  to  recall  some  of  the  particu- 
lars. According  to  my  informant,  the  heads  of 
both  families,  who  lived  in  the  same  or  adjoining 
houses,  had  more  than  once  removed  their  wives 
and  children  into  Ottawa,  upon  false  alarms  of  the 
approach  of  the  Indians ;  and  one  of  them,  from 
some  new  warning  on  the  very  day  on  which  the 
event  took  place,  was  again  moving  the  united 
establishment  in  wagons  to  the  same  place  of  se- 
curity, when  he  met  the  other,  who  so  opposed  and 
ridiculed  the  idea  that  they  returned  together.  An 
hour  or  two  after  they  were  at  work,  within  a  few 
yards  of  the  door,  when  a  band  of  Indians  ap- 
peared, and  with  a  triumphant  yell  surrounded  the 
house  in  an  instant.  Armed  only  with  their  tools 
of  husbandry,  they  did  not  hesitate  to  make  an  at- 

*  See  note  N. 
z2 


270  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

tack  upon  an  enemy  that  outnumbered  them  so 
as  to  make  the  attempt  to  get  into  the  house  and 
reach  their  rifles  perfect  madness.  It  is  needless 
to  add  that  they  were  shot  down,  tomahawked,  and 
scalped  in  an  instant;  not,  however,  as  some  say, 
before  they  had  witnessed  some  of  the  atrocities 
practised  upon  the  feebler  members  of  their  fami- 
lies. These,  both  before  and  after  death,  are  too 
shocking  to  mention. 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  an  Illinois  man  to  me,  who  was 
on  the  spot  shortly  afterward,  "  those  Indians  be- 
haved most  ridiculous.  They  dashed  children's 
brains  against  the  door-posts ;  they  cut  off  their 
heads;  they  tore — ;"  but  the  detail  to  which  my 
informant  applied  so  quaint  an  epithet  is  one  that 
I  would  not  think  for  a  moment  of  giving  you.  I 
must  not  forget  to  add,  that  the  two  surviving 
females,  after  losing  every  near  blood-relative  in 
this  horrible  manner,  have  lately  found  legal  pro- 
tectors, and  are  now  settled  in  life  as  respectable 
married  women.  I  had  previously,  even  as  far 
north  as  the  borders  of  Michigan  in  Indiana,  seen 
stockades  erected  in  the  open  prairie  as  a  place  of 
refuge  for  the  settlers,  with  other  similar  marks  of 
the  late  border-strife,  but  had  no  idea  till  this  even- 
ing that  I  was  approaching  the  seat  of  the  bloodiest 
acts  of  the  unhappy  contest.    The  neutral  Indians, 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  271 

who  disappeared  from  this  part  of  the  country  at 
the  time,  are  now,  I  am  told,  dispersed  again  in 
large  numbers  over  the  neighbourhood.  They  are 
perfectly  harmless  ;  but,  though  treated  with  great 
kindness  by  the  new  emigrants,  there  will  probably 
never  again  be  much  confidence  between  them  and 
the  old  settlers.  The  latter  somehow  seem  to  have 
long  regarded  the  Indians  as  hereditary  enemies ; 
and  the  events  of  1832  have  given  new  vigour  to 
dislikes  which  seemed  to  be  gradually  losing  their 
rancour.  A  man  who  has  to  plough  with  a  heavy 
rifle,  ready-loaded,  slung  to  his  back,  day  after  day, 
while  he  fears  even  to  send  his  child  to  the  spring 
for  a  pail  of  water,  may  be  well  excused  for  being 
warm  upon  a  subject  which  must  thus  fill  his 
thoughts  and  harass  his  mind  throughout  each 
hour  of  the  day.  It  is  therefore  useless  to  argue 
with  an  Illinois  "  Indian  hater."  What  cares  he 
for  the  "lean- famine,  quartering  steel,  and  climb- 
ing fire,"  which  you  tell  him  often  beset  the  red 
man's  wigwam  before  his  ancestors  made  good 
their  footing  on  another's  land.  He  thinks  but  of 
the  frantic  outrages  he  has  witnessed  in  his  own 
day.  He  thinks  of  his  often-abandoned  husbandry, 
"  while  that  the  coulter  rusts"  corrupting  in  its  own 
fertility.  He  thinks  of  his  butchered  friends  and 
neighbours, — of  his  wife  and  offspring  slaughtered 


272  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

upon  his  hearth-stone, — and  asks  bitterly  how  you 
could 

"  Look  to  see 
The  blind  and  bloody  savage  with  foul  hand 
Defile  the  locks  of  your  shrill-shrieking  daughters  ; 
Your  fathers  taken  by  the  silver  beards, 
And  their  most  reverend  heads  dashed  to  the  walls  ; 
Your  naked  infants  spitted  upon  pikes, 
While  the  mad  mothers  with  their  howls  confuse^ 
Do  break  the  clouds." 

An  accumulation  of  horrid  images,  which  shows 
with  what  fearful  fidelity  Shakspeare  would  have 
painted  Indian  warfare,  had  these  wild  tragedies 
of  our  day  been  acted  in  his. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  273 


LETTER   XX. 

Boyd's  Grove,  Illinois,  Jan.  25th,  1834. 

It  was  so  long  since  I  had  seen  a  stone  at  all 
deserving  the  name  of  a  rock,  that  I  took  a  good 
deal  of  satisfaction  in  scaling  the  bluffs  of  the  Illi- 
nois, and  traversing  the  adjacent  ravines,  before 
getting  out  on  the  prairie  the  morning  that  I  left 
Ottawa.  In  one  of  these  rocky  gullies, — which  run 
generally  at  right  angles  to  the  river,  and  with 
their  precipitous  walls  in  one  place,  and  cavernous 
passages  beneath  the  jutting  limestone  in  another, 
often  form  some  picturesque  dell,  or  afford  a  ro- 
mantic glimpse  of  the  open  country  beyond, — I 
saw  the  first  cascade  I  have  met  with  since  leaving 
Pennsylvania.  The  falL  was  not  more  than  ten 
feet ;  but  the  column  of  water,  being  frozen  in  a  solid 
sheet,  as  white  as  the  purest  porcelain,  presented 
a  very  singular  appearance  as  it  raised  its  pale 
glistening  front  beneath  a  canopy  of  stunted  cedars, 
whose  green  branches  impended  from  the  rocks 
above.  Our  sleigh,  after  winding  for  some  time 
among  this  broken  ground,  and  passing  over  one 
or  two  small  but  beautiful   pieces  of  bottom  land 


274  A.     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

lying  among  the  ravines,  reached  at  last  the  top 
of  the  bluff,  where,  instead  of  descending  on  the 
other  side,  the  level  prairie  extended  as  far  as  the 
eye   could   reach  beyond.      A   few  hours'  drive 
brought  us  to  a  log-cabin,  which  was  our  place  for 
dining  and  changing  horses,  and  here  we  found 
that,  owing  to  the  newness  of  the  route,  arrange- 
ments were  not  yet  completed  for  the  public  con- 
veyances going  farther.   Hearing  a  stranger  speak- 
ing in  terms  of  enthusiasm  of  the  fine  view  from 
"  Starved  Rock," — a  detached  crag  some  200  feet 
high,  on  the  banks  of  the  Illinois,  where  one  band  of 
Indians  was  surrounded  and  starved  to  death  bv 
another  (I  refer  you  to  "  Flint's  Valley  of  the  Mis- 
sisippi"  for  the  legend), — I  made  arrangements  to 
visit  the  spot  in  the  morning. 

A  chill  north-easter  swept  over  the  bleak  prairie 
as  my  travelling  companion  and  myself,  mounted 
upon  two  miserable  nags,  neither  of  which  was 
shod,  struck  on  an  Indian  trail,  that  brought  us  in 
an  hour's  ride  to  the  craggy  and  precipitous  banks 
of  the  Vermilion  River,  which  it  was  necessary  to 
cross.  A  sickly-looking  but  rather  interesting 
woman  came  out  of  a  miserable  log-hut — beside 
which,  housed  under  a  few  boards,  stood  a  hand- 
some barouche — to  direct  us  where  to  descend  the 
bank  ;  and  my  friend  on  foot  leading   his  horse, 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  275 

mine  followed  trembling  after  him  ;  and,  notwith- 
standing the  steep  path  was  glazed  with  ice,  we 
descended  the  first  pitch  in  safety. 

Pausing  for  a  moment,  the  confused  masses  of 
rock,  with  trees  and  shrubs  of  all  kinds  growing  in 
their  crevices,  reminded  me,  as  I  looked  around,  of 
more   than   one   scene  of  the  kind   in   the  river 
counties  of  my  native  State.     It  was  now  my  turn 
to  lead  down  the  next  pitch,  which  led  to  the  frozen 
bed  of  the  river.     Upon  gaining  the  edge  I  per- 
ceived that  the  descent  was  a  perfect  glare  of  ice ; 
and  pausing  a  moment  to  hand  a  loaded  gun,  which  I 
carried,  to  mycompanion,lestit  might  be  discharged 
in  the  accident  which  I  anticipated,  my  horse  lost 
his  footing  even  as  I  turned  in  the  saddle,  and 
falling  flat  over  upon  me,  down  we  slid  together.     I 
had  not  gone  two  yards,  however,  before  a  small 
jutting  rock  brought  me,  but  little  bruised,  to  an 
anchorage,  while   my  unfortunate   consort,  after 
sliding  over  a  part   of  my  person,  went,  though 
struggling  fearfully  to  regain  his  feet,  slipping  to 
the  bottom.     He  landed  at  last  erect,  with  hi:?-  face 
up  the  ascent,  and  though  now  on  the  level  ice  of 
the  river,  the  poor  brute  seemed  to  think  he  was 
still  midway  on  the  declivity  he  had  been  hurried 
over  so  roughly  ;  for  without  looking  at  all  behind 
him,  he  stood  trembling  for  an  instant,  and  then,  in 


276  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

spite  of  all  the  outcry  we  could  raise  to  keep  him 
back,  commenced  ascending  to  where  we  stood, 
and  actually  persevered  till  he  had  gained  the 
place  from  whence  he  had  started.  The  only  way 
now  to  effect  our  purpose  was  for  one  to  go  below, 
and  the  other  to  drive  the  horses  down  to  him. 
This  we  indeed  did,  and  I  do  not  know  when  I 
have  been  more  amused,  than  upon  seeing  my 
worthy  Rozinante,  as  if  taught  by  past  expe- 
rience, quietly — when  he  found  he  must  go — 
placing  himself  upon  his  haunches,  and  sliding 
down  the  little  hill  with  a  degree  of  coolness  and 
skill  that  would  have  been  envied  by  the  boldest 
schoolbov  on  Flattenbarrack. 

Crossing  the  Vermilion,  we  were  compelled  to 
drive  our  horses  in  the  same  way  up  the  bank  on 
the  opposite  side ;  and  by  catching  hold  of  the 
branches  of  trees,  drag  ourselves  after  them  as  we 
best  could.  Once  on  the  height,  nothing  but  a  level 
plain  of  rich  prairie  land  lay  between  us  and  the 
bluffs  of  the  Illinois.  It  was  crossed  here  and 
there  at  intervals  of  a  few  miles  with  Indian  trails, 
about  a  foot  in  width,  and  worn  as  deep  as  if  they 
had  been  trod  for  centuries.  They  ran  in  various 
directions,  and  were  generally  as  straight  as  the 
flight  of  an  arrow.  A  heavy  rain  throughout  the 
previous  night  had  swept  all  the  snow  from  the 


A     WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  277 

prairie,  and  these  black  lines  drawn  over  its  brown 
surface  were  now  perceptible  at  a  great  distance. 
A  long  reach  of  woodland  immediately  before  us 
indicated  our  approach  to  the  Illinois  bottoms  ;  but 
on  entering  the  timbered  ground,  where  the  snow 
still  lingered  in  considerable  quantities,  we  found 
ourselves  on  the  slippery  bluffs,  a  hundred  feet 
above  the   level   of   the  river   opposite,  without 
the  possibility  of  descending  to  its  bed.     These 
bluffs  were  divided  at  intervals  by  the  romantic 
ravines  already  described ;  and  having  now  dis- 
covered that  we  had  entirely  missed  the  road  to 
"  The  Starved  Rock,"  it  only  remained  for  us  to 
attempt  descending  through  these   passages,  and 
find  the  place  by  a  route  of  our  own.     We  led  the 
way  by   turns,  and  urging  our   unwilling  horses 
down  the  frozen  beds  of  the  little  streams  which 
impart  their  coolness  in  autumn  to  these  seques- 
tered dells,  we  tried  three  ravines  in  succession, 
without  attaining  our  object.     One  would  bring  us 
up  against  a  dead  wall  of  limestone,  in  the  crevices 
of  whose  base  the  rill  we  had  been  following  sud- 
denly disappeared  ;   a   second  carried  us   to   the 
abrupt  edge  of  a  precipice,  about  fifty  feet  above 
the  river,  whose  rich  bottoms,  extending  far  awav 
below,  reminded  me,  with  the  occasional  copses 
and  detached  clumps  of  trees  which  studded  them, 
vol.  i. — a  a 


278  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

of  points  of  views  in  the  valley  of  the  Mohawk, 
Nothing,  on  so  small  a  scale,  could  be  more  pic- 
turesque than  the  nook  to  which  the  third  ravine 
led  us.  It  was  to  the  upper  edge  of  a  double 
cascade,  over  the  second  fall  of  which  an  arch  of 
rock  projected,  so  as  to  shut  out  from  view  the 
basin  into  which  the  water  finally  fell  below.  The 
passage  through  which  we  reached  the  spot  was 
a  mere  fissure  in  the  side-hill ;  and  when,  not 
wishing  to  get  my  feet  wet,  I  urged  my  horse  to 
the  brink  of  the  little  cascade,  the  long  icicles 
pendent  from  the  hanging  rock  above  were  almost 
within  reach  of  my  riding- whip.  A  number  of 
gnarled  and  stunted  cedars,  "  moist  trees,  that  have 
outlived  the  eagle,"  fling  their  dusky  branches 
over  the  chasm,  and  when  summer  foliage  glitters 
on  the  tall  stems  whose  naked  boughs  project 
above  them,  the  sun  must  be  wholly  excluded  from 
this  cool  retreat. 

Our  horses  were  so  fagged  out  when  we  extri- 
cated ourselves  from  this  ravine,  that  we  did  not 
think  it  well  to  try  another  ;  and  my  companion 
being  afraid  of  freezing  his  feet,  which  were  wet 
from  his  having  dismounted  at  the  most  difficult 
parts  of  the  descent,  I  was  sorry  to  be  compelled  to 
give  up  the  search  and  return  to  our  lodgings,  after 
an  eight  hours'  ride,  without  having  seen  the  inter- 


A.     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  279 

esting   point  we   had  taken  so  much  trouble  to 
attain.* 

The  mail  contractor,  resident  at  Chicago,  had 
arrived  at  the  farm-house  during  our  absence ;  and 
hearing  that  two  gentlemen  were  detained  upon 
the  road,  had,  with  great  politeness,  at  once  taken 
measures  to  send  us  on  the  next  morning.  The 
room,  too,  in  which  we  had  slept  before — four  in 
two  beds,  and  three  on  the  floor — had  now  been 

*  An  unknown  correspondent  has  politely  furnished  the  author 
with  the  following  account  of  this  interesting  point,  as  given  in  "  a 
letter  from  a  friend,  still  roaming  over  the  beautiful  prairies  of 
Illinois." 

"  I  climbed  the  Indian  path  until  I  reached  the  summit  of 
Starved  Rock.  This  celebrated  rock  is  said  to  be  two  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  high.  It  is  a  stupendous  pile,  nearly  as  large  at  the 
top  as  at  the  base,  and  is  accessible  at  one  place  only  ;  in  every 
other  direction  it  is  nearly  perpendicular,  and  more  than  half  its 
base  is  washed  by  the  Illinois,  which  is  here  from  three  to  four 
feet  deep. 

"  The  summit  is  circular  and  almost  level,  containing  about  an 
acre  ;  and  now  has  on  it  a  thick  growth  of  young  timber.  There 
is  still  lying  a  great  quantity  of  the  bones  of  the  Indians  who  were 
starved  to  death  by  a  hostile  tribe.  I  picked  up  on  the  side  of  the 
pass,  and  dug  out  of  the  earth,  several  arrow-points.  At  one  place, 
where  there  appears  a  possibility  of  scaling  the  rock,  an  intrench- 
ment  is  dug  and  breastwork  thrown  up.  After  passing  an  hour 
on  the  summit,  we  descended  to  our  boat  at  the  foot  of  the  rock, 
and  proceeded  on  our  voyage." — See  note  O. 


280  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

vacated  by  five  of  its  occupants,  and  my  companion 
and  I  each  appropriated  a  couch  to  himself.  We 
were  hardly  warm  under  the  cover,  however,  be- 
fore the  tramping  of  horses,  with  the  sound  of 
travellers'  voices,  was  heard  without ;  and  the  good 
dame  thrust  her  head  into  the  room,  in  the  vain  ex- 
pectation of  showing  them  an  unoccupied  bed.  My 
companion  pretended  to  be  in  a  sound  sleep  ;  and  I 
intimated  that  I  should  betake  myself  to  my  buffalo 
robe  and  the  floor,  in  case  a  bed-fellow  were  thrust 
in  upon  me :  whereat  the  kind  lady  was  exceed- 
ingly miffed ;  and  we  could  hear  her  through  the 
board  partition,  a  moment  afterward,  expressing 
herself  after  this  amiable  fashion — "  Ugh  !  great 
people,  truly  ! — a  bed  to  themselves — the  hogs  ! — 
They  travel  together — and  they  eat  together — and 
they  eat  enough,  too — and  yet  they  can't  sleep  to- 
gether !"  Here  the  husband,  a  respectable  middle- 
aged  man,  who  did  every  thing  to  make  our  situa- 
tion comfortable  during  the  thirty-six  hours  we 
spent  at  his  cabin,  interposed,  and  silenced  his 
better  half;  and  the  new  comers,  wrapping  them- 
selves in  their  cloaks  before  the  fire,  in  a  few 
minutes  all  became  still  about  the  establishment. 

The  good  dame,  who  must  have  been  a  fine- 
looking  woman  in  her  day,  and  was,  I  believe,  in 
spite  of  her  scolding  ways,  really  well-disposed  to- 


A     WIIfTJSK     IN     THE      WEST.  281 

wards  us  at  heart,  gave  us  a  capital  cup  of  coffee 
and  a  kind  farewell  in  the  morning.  A  four-horse 
wagon,  with  an  active  driver,  quickly  accomplished 
a  mile  of  rough  road  through  the  grove,  and  brought 
us  once  more  to  the  edge  of  the  smooth  prairie.  I 
can  conceive  nothing  more  desolate  than  the  ap- 
pearance of  that  boundless  plain.  The  fires  had 
traversed  it  in  the  autumn  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  and  the  snow  having  now  disappeared  en- 
tirely from  the  upland,  the  black  and  charred  sur- 
face was  all  that  met  our  vision  wherever  it  wan- 
dered. A  dark  sullen  sky  which  lowered  over- 
head added  not  a  little  to  the  gloominess  of  the 
prospect ;  and  the  day  being  excessively  cold,  our 
ride  for  the  next  fifteen  miles  over  this  dreary  plain 
was  any  thing  but  agreeable.  At  last  we  came  to 
some  broken  ground,  dotted  here  and  there  with  a 
handful  of  shrubbery,  from  which  every  moment  a 
pack  of  grouse  and  occasionally  a  bevy  of  quail 
would  rise.  The  little  village  of  Hennepin— called 
after  Father  Hennepin — next  hove  in  sight ;  though 
it  lay  so  sheltered  along  the  banks  of  the  Illinois 
that  we  were  nearly  upon  the  hamlet  before  its 
vicinity  was  discoverable. 

After  stopping  an  hour  or  two  to  dine  and  feed 
our  horses,  we  left  the  driver  to  take  a  circuitous 

route  down  the  steep  bank,  which,  though  not  rocky, 

Aa  2 


282  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

is  about  sixty  feet  high,  and  very  precipitous  on 
that  side  of  the  river,  while  my  friend  and  I  de- 
scended to  the  ice,  and  walked  over  the  river, 
which  was  here  a  broad  and  noble  stream,  with 
some  beautiful  alluvial  islands  on  its  bosom.  The 
difference  of  temperature  here  and  on  the  bleak 
prairie  above  was  astonishing ;  and  when  I  sat 
down  upon  a  fallen  tree  among  the  tangled  vines 
of  the  rich  bottom  opposite  to  Hennepin,  and 
watched  a  flock  of  green  paroquets  fluttering 
among  the  wych-elms  which  here  and  there 
skirted  the  shore,  while  the  sun,  for  a  moment 
piercing  his  murky  veil,  touched  with  gold  the  icicles 
that  glazed  their  drooping  branches,  I  could  fancy 
myself  transported  to  a  different  climate.  The 
driver  overtook  us  at  last,  and  then  we  commenced 
making  our  way  through  a  timbered  bottom,  which, 
for  appearance  of  rank  fertility,  excelled  any  spot 
I  have  ever  beheld.  The  trees,  which  were  of  enor- 
mous size,  seemed  chained  together  at  every  point 
by  the  huge  vines  which  clambered  to  their  very 
summits,  locking  the  stately  stems  in  their  ponder- 
ous embrace,  and  clasping  each  outer  bough  with 
some  twining  tendril,  which,  having  thus  secured 
its  prey  on  one  tree,  seemed  like  a  living  animal  to 
have  bounded  to  another,  and  fastened  its  eager 
grasp  upon  some  limb  as  yet  untouched.    Beneath 


A    WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  283 

the  whole  an  interminable  growth  of  underwood, 
protected  by  the  woven  canopy  above,  and  flourish- 
ing rankly  in  its  living  fetters, 

"  Like  prisoners  wildly  overgrown  with  hair, 
Put  forth  disordered  twigs." 

A  half-hour's  ride  carried  us  through  this  teem- 
ing region  to  the  foot  of  a  steep  and  open- wooded 
hill,  which  ascending  with  some  difficulty,  we 
came  out  once  more  upon  the  prairie,  and  found 
the  change  of  temperature  instantaneous.  The 
road  over  the  dry  grassy  plain  was  very  good, 
however,  for  the  first  six  or  eight  miles ;  and  as 
the  evening  began  to  close  in  intensely  cold,  we 
rattled  them  off  in  a  very  short  time.  At  last  we 
came  to  a  deep-frozen  gully,  in  crossing  which  our 
leaders  bruised  themselves  so  badly  by  breaking 
through  the  ice,  that  when  we  reached  a  spot  of 
the  same  kind,  but  rather  worse,  a  mile  or  two  in 
advance,  the  frightened  animals  recoiled  from  the 
place,  and  refused  to  cross  it  Our  driver,  a 
doughty  little  chap,  about  four  feet  eleven,  who 
rejoiced  in  the  name  of  Samson,  and  was  a  capital 
whip,  by-the-by,  after  using  every  exertion  to  get 
his  whole  team  over,  was  at  last  compelled  to  give 
up  the  point,  and  proceed  to  detach  the  leaders 
from  the  wheel-horses.     This,  with  our  aid,  was 


284  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

soon  done  ;  and  my  companion  remaining  with  the 
leaders  on  one  side,  Samson  and  I  made  a  dash  at 
the  frozen  brook,  and,  breaking  through  in  the 
midst,  the  horses  gave  such  a  spring  to  free  them- 
selves from  the  wagon  that  the  swingletree-bolt 
snapped ;  and  had  not  the  heroic  little  champion 
held  on  to  the  reins  as  tenaciously  as  did  his  name- 
sake to  the  gates  of  Gaza,  we  might  have  been  left 
a  prey  to  the  next  drove  of  Philistinean  wolves 
that  should  rove  the  prairie  in  quest  of  a  supper. 
Samson,  however,  was  true  to  his  name  ;  and  with 
a  mighty  arm  bringing  up  his  foaming  steeds  all 
standing,  we  crawled  over  the  head  of  the  rampant 
wagon  (the  hind-wheels  only  had  gone  through  the 
ice),  and  sprang  to  the  firm  ground.  The  swingle- 
tree  was  soon  tinkered  fast  again ;  but  now  came 
the  difficulty  of  getting  the  unwilling  leaders  over, 
who,  it  is  presumed,  had  been  no  uninterested 
spectators  of  what  had  just  been  going  forward  ; 
coaxing  and  whipping  availed  nothing ;  and  we  at 
last  succeeded  only  by  buckling  two  pair  of  reins 
together  and  passing  them  over  the  brook,  two  of 
us  pulling  on  the  horses'  mouths,  while  the  third 
applied  a  smart  castigation  behind.  One  of  the 
poor  animals  again  broke  in,  and  floundered  dread- 
fully before  he  reached  a  firm  footing  on  the  other 
side.     But  this  was  not  the  worst ;  our  poor  little 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  285 

Samson,  in  attempting  to  jump,  plunged  in  to 
his  knees,  and  suffered  much  inconvenience  from 
it  afterward.  The  evening  was  indeed  so  cold 
that  our  wheel-horses,  who  were  coated  with  ice, 
their  long  tails  being  actually  frozen  solid,  were 
in  danger  of  freezing  to  death,  had  we  been  com- 
pelled to  delay  much  longer.  But,  placing  now 
the  leaders  on  the  firm  ground  beyond  them,  one 
smart  pull  served  to  extricate  the  wagon  from  the 
hole,  and  deliver  us  from  our  quandary. 

We  had  five  or  six  miles  still  to  go  before  reach- 
ing a  house,  and  feeling  some  anxiety  about  Sam- 
son's wet  feet,  we  urged  him  to  put  the  horses — 
nothing  loath  when  once  started — to  the  top  of 
their  speed.  He  did  indeed  drive  furiously;  but 
when  we  arrived  at  the  house  whence  I  write,  the 
poor  fellow's  feet  were  frozen.  Rushing  at  once  to 
the  fire,  he  would  undoubtedly  have  lost  them,  had 
there  not  chanced  to  be  a  physician  present,  who 
directed  us  what  to  do.  The  good-humoured  little 
patient  was  removed  without  delay  to  the  back 
part  of  the  room ;  and  we  commenced  pouring 
water  into  his  boots  until  they  melted  from  his  feet, 
the  temperature  of  the  water  being  gradually 
heightened  till  it  became  blood-warm,  while  a 
bucket  of  ice-water  stood  by  for  the  sufferer  to 
thrust  his  feet  in,  whenever  the  returning  circula- 


286  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

tion  became  too  violent  for  him  to  endure.  In  the 
morning,  though  his  feet  were  dreadfully  swollen, 
he  was  enabled,  by  tying  them  up  in  thick  horse- 
blankets,  to  move  about,  and  even  return  with  his 
team.  To  the  simple  and  judicious  suggestions  of 
the  travelling-physician  present  our  little  hero  was, 
in  all  probability,  indebted  for  escaping  a  most 
awful  calamity  : — a  settler  in  this  neighbourhood 
having  lost  both  legs  a  few  days  since  by  an  expo- 
sure similar  to  Samson's. 

I  am  now  staying  at  the  house  of  a  flourishing 
farmer,  whose  sturdy  frame,  bold  features,  and 
thick  long  black  hair  would,  with  his  frank  address, 
afford  as  fine  a  specimen  of  the  western  borderer  as 
one  could  meet  with,  and  never  allow  you  to  sus- 
pect that  ten  or  fifteen  years  ago  he  was  a  New- 
York  tradesman.  He  lives,  like  all  other  people  of 
this  country,  in  a  log-cabin,  which  has  many  com- 
forts about  it,  however,  not  usually  found  in  these 
primitive  domicils.  Having  a  large  family,  with 
no  neighbours  nearer  than  ten  miles  on  one  side, 
and  twenty  on  the  other,  he  maintains  a  school- 
master to  instruct  his  children :  the  room  I  occupy 
at  night  being  fitted  up  with  desks  and  benches  as 
a  school-room.  His  farm,  which  lies  along  the 
edge  of  a  beautiful  and  well-watered  grove,  sup- 
plies him  with  almost  every  thing  that  he  wants ; 


A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  287 

and  having  once  pursued  a  different  mode  of  life, 
he  seems  now  to  realize  the  full  independence  of 
his  situation,  more   even   than   those  who   have 
always  been  brought  up  as  farmers.     I  told  him 
this  morning,  as  he  sallied  out  to  chop,  with  his 
two  sons,  axe  in  hand,  all  clad   in  their  belted 
capotes  and  white  woollen  hoods,  that  I  should  like 
to  meet  his  sun-burnt  features  and  independent  step 
in  Broadway,  to  see  how  many  of  his  old  acquaint- 
ances would  recognise  the  pale  mechanic  in  the 
brown  back-woodsman.     He  promised  me,  if  he 
came  in  winter,  to  appear  with  the  guise  in  which 
I  then  beheld  him,  adding,  in  western  phraseology, 
"  The  way  in  which  folks  '11  stare,  squire,  will  be 
a  caution" 

After  being  detained  here  some  days,  waiting 
for  the  St.  Louis  mail-wagon,  and  losing  my  travel- 
ling-companion, who,  having  bought  a  horse,  has 
gone  on  by  himself,  I  have  concluded  that  it  would 
never  do  to  go  out  of  this  country  without  visiting 
Galena  and  the  mining  country:  and  as  there  is 
now  a  public  conveyance  thither,  I  shall  take  the 
first  opportunity  to  go  with  it.     I  have  amused 
myself  for  the  last  three  nights  in  watching  for 
wolves  by  moonlight,  at  the  edge  of  the  wood,  a 
few  hundred  yards  from  the  house.     They  come 
howling  round  the  house  after  nightfall,  and  if  on 


288  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

is  "  in  luck"  at  all,  are  easily  shot.  But  last  night, 
after  leaving  my  position  but  for  five  minutes,  I 
heard  the  report  of  a  rifle,  and  hastening  to  the 
spot,  where  a  lad  staid  to  fill  my  place  for  a  mo- 
ment, I  found  that  a  gray  and  a  black  wolf,  of  the 
largest  kind,  had  approached  suddenly  within  two 
or  three  yards  of  the  muzzle  of  his  gun,  and  startled 
him  so  that  he  missed  them  both.  In  the  confident 
hope  of  their  return — for  the  bait  that  we  had 
thrown  about  the  place  was  still  there — I  took  the 
little  fellow's  place,  and  wrapping  myself  in  a 
buffalo  skin,  lay  watching  on  the  ground  till  nearly 
daybreak  ;  and  the  enemy  then  not  making  his  ap- 
pearance, I  was  glad  to  creep  shivering  to  bed. 

Upon  entering  my  room,  which  contained  two 
beds,  I  observed,  after  striking  a  light,  that  the  one 
opposite  to  mine  was  occupied  by  some  new- 
comers, while  a  sheet  suspended  from  the  ceiling 
near  the  pillow,  and  concealing  the  phrenology  of 
its  occupants  from  view,  was  evidently  meant  as 
a  caveat  against  reconnoitring  that  part  of  the  apart- 
ment. A  respectable-looking  traveller  and  a  pretty 
young  woman,  who  I  was  told  was  a  bride  on  her 
way  to  St.  Louis,  breakfasted  with  us  the  next 
morning.  But,  alas  !  it  completely  destroyed  the 
piquancy  of  my  reflections,  to  see  madam,  after 
wrapping  herself  in  a  handsome  cashmere  shawl, 


A    WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  289 

while  their  sleigh  was  getting  ready,  raise  her  white 
lace  veil,  and  place  the  stump  of  &  pipe  between 
her  rosy  lips !  Can  you  conceive  a  more  legiti- 
mate cause  for  divorce  ?  "  An  American  bride 
smoking  a  pipe  /"  What  a  subject  for  Cruickshank 
to  illustrate,  by  way  of  frontispiece  to  the  next 
edition  of  Captain  Hamilton's  "Men  and  Man- 
ners !" 

You  shall  hear  from  me  next  at  Galena.     Till 
then,  farewell. 


vol.  i. — b  b 


290  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 


LETTER  XXI. 

Galena,  Upper  Mississippi,  Feb.  1. 

A  furious  squall  of  snow,  which  would   have 
rendered  it  impossible  to  keep  a  given  road  in 
crossing  the  prairie,  subsided  before  night- fall,  on 
the  day  that  I  left  Boyd's  Grove,  bound  for  the 
Upper  Mississippi ;  and  as  the  calm  clear  sky  of 
evening  succeeded,  our  sleigh  glided  over  the  open 
plain  at  a  rate  which  soon  made  the  cabins  behind 
us    disappear   in   the   distance ;    while   four  fleet 
horses,  with  a  good  driver,  and  but  one  passenger, 
swiftly  accomplished  the    short   stage  of  twelve 
miles,  and  brought  us  to  the  room  where  we  were 
to  pass  the  night.     The  intervening  prairie,  for  the 
first  six  miles,  was  high  and  level,  with  not  a  stick 
of  timber, — one  broad  snow-covered  plain,  where 
you  could  see  the  dark  figure  of  a  wolf  for  miles 
off,  as  it  stood  in  relief  against  the  white  unbroken 
surface.     A  prospect  more  bleak  and  lonely,  when 
night  is  closing  in,  and  you  press  towards  some 
distant  grove,  whose  tree-tops  cannot  yet  be  dis- 
covered above  the   monotonous   plains,  is  incon- 


A.    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  29J 

ceivable.  Presently,  however,  you  come  to  a 
break  in  the  prairie  ;  a  slight  descent  next  shelters 
you  somewhat  from  the  wind,  and  now  you  can 
discover  a  wood,  which  hitherto  had  appeared 
many  miles  oft',  or  perhaps  was  not  perceptible 
at  all,  that  has  pushed  a  scattered  clump  of  trees 
here  and  there,  like  an  advanced  guard  under 
cover  of  the  ravine.  You  come  to  the  brink  of 
another  platform,  and  you  are  on  the  edge  of  a 
grove ;  while  for  twenty  miles  ahead  the  eye 
ranges  over  what  looks  like  a  shallow  basin  of 
immense  extent,  broken  occasionally  by  dusky 
masses,  which  seem  rather  to  repose  upon  than  to 
spring  out  uf  its  surface ;  such  was  the  view  in 
advance,  from  a  point  about  six  miles  from  Boyd's 
Grove.  The  elevation  from  which  we  descended 
was  not  more  than  twenty  feet,  and  it  commanded 
a  prospect  of  as  many  miles.  It  was  like  looking 
from  the  edge  of  a  snow-covered  desert  upon  a 
frozen  lake,  with  its  isles,  headlands,  and  scattered 
rocks,  and  its  waters  riveted  as  fast  as  they.  The 
rosy  rays  of  the  setting  sun  still  lingered  over  the 
scene,  as  on  one  they  longed  to  set  free  from  the 
icy  chains  which  bound  it;  while  the  calm  pale 
moon  grew  momentarily  more  bright,  as  if  her 
cold  beams  borrowed  lustre  from  the  extent  of 
pure  white  surface  over  which  they  shone. 


292  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

A  single  room,  miserably  built  of  logs, — the  in- 
terstices of  which  were  so  unskilfully  filled  up 
with  mud  that  I  could  hear  the  night- wind  whis- 
tling through  them  as  we  drove  up  to  the  door, — 
was  to  be  our  lodging  for  the  night.     A  couple  of 
rifles,  with  a  powder-horn  and  a  pair  of  Indian 
blankets,  lay  without,  and  two  painted  Pottawatta- 
mies  were  crouched  on  the  hearth,  as  I  entered 
the  cabin.     One  of  them,  a  slight  but  elegantly- 
formed  youth  of  twenty,  sprang  at  once  to  his 
feet ;   while  the  other,  a  dark  ill-looking  negro- 
faced  fellow,  retained  his  squatting  posture.    They 
were  dressed  in  complete  suits  of  buckskin ;  both 
having  their  ears  bored  in  several  places,  with 
long   drops  of  silver   pendent  in   thick    bunches 
therefrom  ;  while  broad  plates  suspended  over  their 
chests,  with  armlets   of  the   same   metal,  made 
quite  a  rich  display.     Their  dress*  was,  however, 
the  only  point  in  which  they  resembled  each  other ; 
and  the  acquiline  nose,  keen  eyes,  and  beautifully- 
arched  brows  of  the  one  contrasted  as  strongly 
with  the  heavy  inexpressive  look  and  thick  lips  of 
the  other,  as  did  the  closely-fitting  hunting-frock  of 
the  first,  which  a  black  belt,  sown  thick  with  studs 
of  brass,  secured  to  his  erect  form,  with  the  loose 

*  See  note  P* 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  293 

shirt  that  crumpled  around  the  crouching  person 
of  the  other.  A  hard-featured  borderer,  with 
long  sandy  hair  flowing  from  under  a  cap  of  wolf- 
skin, and  dressed  in  a  bright  green  capote  with  an 
orange-coloured  sash,  sat  smoking  a  pipe  on  the 
other  side  of  the  fireplace  ;  while  one  foot  dangled 
from  the  bed  on  which  he  had  placed  himself,  and 
another  rested  on  a  Spanish  saddle,  whose  holsters 
were  brought  so  near  to  the  fire,  as  it  lay  thus  care- 
lessly thrown  in  a  corner,  that  the  brazen  butts  of 
a  pair  of  heavy  pistols  were  continually  exposed 
to  view  by  the  flickering  light.  A  pale,  sickly- 
looking  woman,  with  an  infant  in  her  arms,  and 
two  small  children  clinging  around  her  lap,  sat  in 
the  centre,  and  completed  the  group.  Her  hus- 
band and  another,  a  hanger-on  of  the  establishment, 
had  stepped  out  to  look  after  our  horses,  as  we 
drove  up  to  the  door.  The  apartment,  which  was 
not  more  than  twenty  feet  square,  was  cumbered 
up  with  four  beds  ;  and  when  I  thought  how  many 
there  were  to  occupy  them,  and  observed  a  thin 
cotton  curtain  flapping  against  a  wide  unglazed 
opening,  which  formed  the  only  window  of  this 
forlorn  chamber,  I  thought  that  the  prospect  of 
comfortable  accommodation  for  the  night  was  any 
thing    but    promising.     Presently,   however,   the 

landlord  entered,  with  an  armful  of  burr-oak  and 

b  b  2 


294  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

split  hickory,  which  crackled  and  sputtered  at  a 
rate  that  made  the  Indians  withdraw  from  the 
ashes.  The  good  woman  placed  her  child  in  a 
rude  cradle,  and  bestirred  herself  with  activity 
and  good-humour  in  getting  supper;  while  the 
frontiers-man,  knocking  the  ashes  from  his  toma- 
hawk-pipe, passed  me  a  flask  of  Ohio  whiskey, 
which,  after  my  cold  ride,  had  all  the  virtue  of 
Monongahela.  Some  coarse  fried  pork,  with  a 
bowl  of  stewed  hominy,  hot  rolls,  and  wild  honey, 
did  not  then  come  amiss,  especially  when  backed 
by  a  cup  of  capital  coffee  from  the  lower  country  ; 
though  the  right  good-will  with  which  we  all  bent 
to  this  important  business  of  eating  did  not  pre- 
vent me  from  noticing  the  Frenchman-like  par- 
ticularity with  which  the  Indians  ate  from  but  one 
dish  at  a  time,  though  tasting  every  thing  upon  the 

table. 

The  best-looking  of  the  two,  though  daubed  with 
paint  to  a  degree  that  made  him  look  perfectly 
savage,  was  almost  the  only  Indian  I  had  yet  found 
who  could  talk  English  at  all ;  and  he  seemed  both 
amused  and  interested  while  I  read  over  to  him  a 
slight  vocabulary  of  words  in  his  own  language,  as 
I  had  taken  down  the  terms  occasionally  in  my 
pocket-book,  and  was  evidently  gratified  when  I 
added  to  their  number  from  his  lips.     He  spoke  the 


A     WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  295 

language,  indeed,  with  a  clearness  and  distinctness 
of  enunciation  such  as  I  have  only  heard  before 
from  a  female  tongue ;  and  the  words  thus  pro- 
nounced had  a  delicacy  and  music  in  their  sound 
entirely  wanting  in  the  usual  slovenly  utterance  of 
Indians.  You  would  have  been  struck,  too,  in  the 
midst  of  our  philological  task,  to  see  the  grim- 
looking  savage  bend  over  and  rock  the  cradle,  as 
the  shivering  infant  would  commence  crying  be- 
hind us.  In  this  way  the  evening  passed  rapidly 
enough ;  and  then  the  good  dame  with  her  hus- 
band and  children  taking  one  bed,  the  green  rider 
and  I  took  each  another,  while  the  stage-driver  and 
remaining  white  man  shared  the  fourth  together. 
The  Indians  brought  in  their  guns  and  blankets 
from  without,  and  making  a  mattress  of  my  buffalo- 
skin,  they  placed  their  feet  to  the  fire,  and  after  a 
chirping  conversation  of  a  few  minutes  beneath 
their  woollen  toggery,  sunk  to  slumber. 

The  moon  was  still  shining  brightly  above,  as  I 
sallied  out  an  hour  before  dawn  to  wash  in  the 
snow,  and  finish  in  the  open  air  the  toilet  com- 
menced in  the  crowded  shantee.  Our  sleigh,  a 
low  clumsy  pine  box  on  a  pair  of  ox-runners,  was 
soon  after  at  the  door,  and  covering  up  my  ex- 
tremities as  well  as  I  could  in  the  wild-hay  which 


296  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

filled  the  bottom  (for  the  morning  was  intensely 
cold),  I  wound  my  fur  robe  around  my  head  to 
keep  my  face  from  freezing,  and  soon  found  myself 
gliding  at  a  prodigious  rate  over  the  smooth  prairie. 
The  sun  was  several  hours  high  when  we  struck  a 
fine  grove  of  timber,  through  which  the  small  but 
rapid  river  Huron  takes  its  way,  and  thrashing 
through  the  wintry  stream,  we  merely  paused  long 
enough  at  a  shantee  on  the  opposite  side  to  adjust 
some  of  our  harness  which  was  broken  while  ford- 
ing the  torrent,  and  reached  a  comfortable  log- 
cabin,  in  which  we  breakfasted  at  noon.  There 
was  an  Indian  encampment  within  gun-shot  of  the 
house,  and  seeing  a  melancholy-looking  squaw  with 
an  infant  in  her  arms,  hanging  about  the  farm- 
house, I  left  my  landlady  turning  some  venison 
cutlets  and  grilled  grouse,  to  see  how  the  aborigines 
fared  in  this  cold  weather.  A  pretty  Indian  girl  of 
fourteen,  driving  a  couple  of  half-starved  ponies, 
indicated  the  camp  of  her  friends.  They  proved 
to  be  a  very  inferior  band,  having  but  two  hunters, 
and  those  inefficient-looking  fellows,  to  a  score  of 
women  and  children.  Sheer  necessity  had  com- 
pelled them  to  encamp  near  the  settlement ;  and  a 
more  squalid,  miserable-looking  set  of  creatures  I 
never  beheld.     The  chief  of  the  party,  contrary  to 


A    WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  297 

the  usual  Indian  custom,  had  let  his  beard*  grow 
till  it  stood  out  in  small  tufts  from  every  part  of  his 
sinister-looking  smoke-dried  face ;  and  the  thong 
of  leather  which  sustained  his  seal  ping-knife  seemed 
to  answer  the  double  purpose  of  binding  the  frag- 
ments of  his  greasy  and  tattered  capote  to  his 
body,  and  of  keeping  the  loosely  hung  component 
parts  of  the  body  itself  together.  A  bluff-faced 
English-looking  white  youth  of  eighteen,  with  a 
shock  head  of  reddish  curly  hair,  and  wearing  a 
hunting-frock  of  some  coarse  material,  striped  like 
a  bed-ticking,  secured  to  his  body  with  a  red  belt, 
from  which  a  hatchet  was  suspended,  was  assisting 
him  in  "  spancelling"  a  refractory  pony.  The 
young  gentleman,  as  I  afterward  learned,  belonged 
to  the  tribe — some  runaway  apprentice,  perhaps, 
who  thought  he  was  playing  Rolla.  The  rest  of  the 
mongrel  concern  dodged  like  beavers  beneath  the 
mats  of  their  smoky  wigwams,  as  I  approached 
their  common  fire  to  warm  myself. 

Returning  to  the  farm-house,  I  found  a  little  girl 
playing  on  the  floor  with  several  strings  of  beads, 
which  the  squaw  first  mentioned  had  just  parted 
with  to  purchase  food  for  her  starving  infant.  The 
family,  however,  though  they  suffered  the  child  to 

*  See  note  Q. 


298  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

retain  the  ornaments,  supplied  the  poor  woman 
with  food  and  comforts  to  ten  times  their  value. 
The  Indian  mother,  I  was  told,  though  nearly  faint- 
ing from  exhaustion,  asked  for  nothing  except  for 
her  child  ;  and  seemed  deeply  affected  when  after, 
by  signs,  apprizing  the  whites  of  her  situation,  she 
obtained  the  required  sustenance. 

Upon  emerging  from  this  grove  and  getting  out 
once  more  on  the  prairie,  I  could  distinguish  a 
solitary  horseman,  followed  by  his  dog,  coming  to- 
wards us,  at  least  a  mile  off;  and  remarking  that 
as  they  approached  us  the  distance  between  the 
man  and  his  canine  companion  increased  at  a  very 
unusual  rate,  I  was  induced  to  scan  the  appearance 
of  the  latter  as  he  passed  within  rifle-shot  of  our 
sleigh  after  his  master  was  out  of  hail.  It  proved 
to  be  an  enormous  wolf;  and  we  actually  tracked 
the  fellow  for  eighteen  miles,  to  a  thick  brake  on  the 
banks  of  a  frozen  stream,  from  which  he  had  first 
leaped  into  the  traveller's  tracks,  and  steadily  fol- 
lowed on  in  his  horse's  steps  to  the  point  where  he 
passed  us.  The  cowardly  rascal,  being  hard  pushed 
with  hunger,  though  he  could  have  no  idea  of 
attacking  the  traveller  by  himself,  had  probably 
just  trudged  along  mile  after  mile  in  hope  of  rais- 
ing a  posse  comitatus  of  his  long-haired  brethren 
along  the  road,  or  of  availing  himself  after  nightfall 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  299 

of  some  accident  that  might  overtake  the  horseman, 
who  was  so  unconscious  of  his  volunteer  escort. 
Had  the  man  but  turned  his  horse  and  run  the  wolf 
a  hundred  yards,  he  would  have  rid  himself  of  a 
companion  that  circumstances  might  possibly  have 
rendered  inconvenient. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  reached  the 
banks  of  Rock  River,  whose  broad  and  limpid  cur- 
rent was,  of  course,  congealed  by  the  rigours  of 
winter.  The  enterprising  and  intelligent  settler 
from  the  city  of  New- York,  who,  though  repeatedly 
driven  off  by  the  Indians,  has  been  for  fifteen  years 
established  at  "  Dixon's  Ferry,"  detained  me  some 
time  at  dinner  in  expatiating  upon  the  healthfulness 
of  the  adjacent  country,  and  the  abundance  of  fish 
and  game  of  all  kinds  which  frequent  the  waters  of 
the  fine  stream  upon  which  he  resides.  The  river, 
which  is  navigable  for  boats  of  fifty  tons  nearly  a 
hundred  miles  above  the  Mississippi,  flows  through 
a  gentle  valley,  with  the  prairie  sloping  to  its  edge 
upon  either  side,  except  when  a  group  of  bold  rocks, 
forming  a  cave,  whose  entrance  has  a  perfect 
Gothic  arch  of  some  twenty  feet  high,  rear  their 
sudden  pinnacles  above  the  farther  bank.  The 
smoothness  of  the  adjacent  ground  is  broken  here 
and  there  by  an  open  grove,  while  an  occasional 
thicket,  with  one  or  two  rankly  overgrown  alluvial 


300  A    WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

islands  in  the  river,  must  constitute  a  beautiful 
landscape  in  summer.  This  spot  was  General  At- 
kinson's head-quarters  during  the  Black  Hawk  war, 
and  may  be  considered  about  the  centre  of  opera- 
tions during  the  recent  Indian  difficulties.  A  sharp 
ride  of  twelve  miles  over  the  open  prairie  brought 
us  after  dark  to  Buffalo  Grove,  the  scene  of  some 
of  the  most  melancholy  incidents  that  attended 
those  commotions. 

A  party  of  four  or  five  mounted  travellers,  bound 
from  Galena  for  the  lower  country,  were  obliged 
to  pass  the  grove  on  their  route  just  after  the  dif- 
ficulties with  the  Indians  commenced.  They  had 
reached  the  edge  of  the  grove,  when  one  of  the 
number,  conceiving  that  it  might  harbour  an  am- 
bush, suggested  the  expediency  of  deviating  from 
the  usual  path,  and  taking  a  somewhat  circuitous 
course.  He  was  opposed,  however,  by  his  com- 
panions ;  and  one  of  them,  taunting  him  with  an 
unnecessary  regard  to  prudence,  spurred  his  horse 
and  advanced  first  into  the  fatal  wood.  His  horse 
could  have  made  but  a  few  bounds — I  have  seen 
his  grave,  just  within  the  edge  of  the  grove — when 
an  Indian  bullet  brought  him  to  the  ground ;  and 
his  companions,  wheeling  on  their  track,  for  the 
present  escaped  further  mischief.  On  arriving  at 
Dixon's  Ferry,  it  was  proposed  the  next  day  to 


A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  301 

return  and  bury  the  poor  fellow,  who  had  thus 
fallen  a  victim  to  his  own  rashness.  Eight  per- 
sons, among  whom  was  Mr.  Savary,  the  Indian 
agent  for  the  hostile  tribes,  volunteered  upon  the 
kind  office,  which  was  performed  without  molesta- 
tion, and  the  agent,  with  the  greater  part  of  those 
present,  then  kept  on  his  way  to  the  upper  coun- 
try ;  the  rest,  among  whom  was  my  informant, 
returning  to  their  home  on  Rock  River.  A  con- 
fused  account  is  given  of  what  followed  ;  as  four 
of  Mr.  Savary's  party,  including  himself,  were 
slain  in  another  ambush ;  and  those  who  escaped 
by  the  speed  of  their  horses  had  but  little  oppor- 
tunity, after  the  first  surprise,  to  observe  how  their 
companions  met  their  fate.  Tt  is  agreed,  however, 
that  the  unfortunate  agent,  turning  in  his  saddle 
after  the  first  fire,  was  shot  in  the  act  of  appealing 
to  the  Indians  as  their  friend  and  "  father," — the 
reply  being  a  disclaimer  of  his  official  character, 
and  the  words,  "  We  have  no  longer  any  white 
father,"  accompanying  the  discharge  of  the  piece 
whose  bullet  pierced  his  brain.  The  head  of  the 
ill-fated  gentleman,  carried  off  by  the  Indians,  is 
said  to  have  been  afterward  recognised  and  re- 
covered from  the  savage  band.  The  Indians  fired 
the  house  of  the  settler  (an  old  New-Yorker)  at 
Buffalo  Grove,  and  the  half-burnt  timbers  and  lonely 

VOL.  I. C  C 


302  A     WINTER    IN    THE    WEST. 

door-posts  contrasted  strangely,  as  I  viewed  them 
in  passing,  by  the  morning  sun,  with  the  neat  new 
log-dwelling  a  few  paces  off,  in  which  I  had  most 
comfortably  spent  the  night  before. 

But  these  traces  of  savage  war  soon,  by  their 
frequency,  become  familiar. 

The  aspect  of  the  country  changes  considerably 
soon  after  passing  Rock  River.  The  prairie  is 
frequently  broken  by  sudden  ravines  ;  the  number 
of  groves  increases ;  the  streams  run  more  ra- 
pidly over  their  pebbly  beds  ;  and  huge  masses  of 
crumbling  rock  rise  like  the  ruined  walls  of  old 
castles  along  the  mimic  vales  through  which  they 
take  their  way.  In  these  secluded  dells  a  number 
of  settlers  had  ventured  to  fix  themselves  along 
the  Galena  route ;  and  though  many  have  now 
returned  to  their  precarious  homes,  the  humble 
dwellings  and  various  little  improvements  of  others 
remain  as  they  left  them  when  fleeing  with  their 
families  before  the  dreaded  savage.  With  the 
appearance  of  one  of  these  cottages  I  was  struck 
particularly.  The  roots  of  a  large  tree,  whose 
branches  brushed  a  wall  of  rock  opposite  to  it, 
had  caused  a  sparkling  brook  to  describe  the  form 
of  a  horse-shoe  in  winding  through  a  small  alluvial 
bottom,  while  a  row  of  wild  plum-trees  across  the 
little   peninsula  thus  formed  divided  it  from  the 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  303 

rest  of  the  valley,  and  just  left  room  enough  for 
the  cabin  of  the  settler,  with  a  few  acres  for  a 
garden  around  his  door.  A  few  acres  more  along 
the  margin  of  the  brook  supplies  another  enclosure  ; 
and  the  fences  and  fixtures  exhibited  a  degree  of 
care  and  arrangement  by  no  means  common  in 
this  region.  But  the  exiled  owner  had  never 
returned  to  his  tasteful  though  humble  home.  The 
open  door  swung  loose  upon  a  single  hinge.  The 
snow  lay  far  within  the  threshold  ;  and  a  solitary 
raven,  perched  upon  the  roof,  seemed  to  consider 
the  abode  of  desolation  so  much  his  own,  that, 
heedless  of  a  flock  of  his  brothers  which  rose  from 
some  carrion  near,  as  we  approached  the  place,  he 
only  moved  sideways  along  the  rafter,  and  gave  a 
solitary  croak  as  we  drove  by. 

Approaching  Galena,  the  country  becomes  still 
more  broken  and  rocky,  until  at  last  a  few  short 
hills,  here  called  "  knobs,"  indicated  our  approach 
to  Fever  River  ;  the  river  itself  at  once  became 
visible  when  we  had  wound  round  the  last  of  these, 
and  got  among  the  broken  ravines  that  seam  the 
declivity,  sloping  down  for  nearly  a  mile  to  its 
margin.  Short  sudden  hills,  the  bluffs  of  the  prai- 
rie beyond,  partly  wooded  and  partly  faced  with 
rock,  formed  the  opposite  shore,  while  the  town  of 


304  A    WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

Galena  lay  scattered  along  their  broken  outline,  as 
if  some  giant  had  pitched  a  handful  of  houses 
against  the  hill-side,  and  the  slimy  mud  (for  which 
the  streets  of  Galena  are  celebrated)  had  caused 
them  to  stick  there.  We  crossed  on  the  ice,  and 
I  am  now  once  more  in  a  frame-house. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  305 


LETTER  XXII. 

Prairie  du  Chien,  Upper  Mississippi,  Feb.  5th. 

I  had  only  been  in  Galena  a  few  hours,  when  I 
learned  that  a  mail-carrier  was  to  start  in  the 
morning  for  Fort  Crawford  on  the  Upper  Missis- 
sippi, and  determined  at  once  to  accompany  him  ; 
deferring  an  examination  of  the  country  around 
Galena  till  my  return.  It  was  about  eleven  o'clock 
of  a  fine  clear  cold  day,  when  my  compagnon  de 
voyage,  a  bluff-faced  curly-pated  fellow,  in  a  green 
blanket  coat,  drove  up  to  the  door  in  a  better  sleigh 
than  I  had  seen  on  any  of  the  post- routes  below ; 
and  wrapping  myself  up  in  a  couple  of  buffalo 
robes  and  sundry  blankets,  I  found  myself,  after 
ascending  the  rugged  bluffs  of  Fever  River,  armed 
at  all  points  to  encounter  the  biting  wind  which 
swept  the  open  plain  beyond.  And  here  I  may 
remark,  that  although  the  cold  winds  in  this  prairie 
country  have  a  power  that  I  had  no  idea  of  till  I 
experienced  it,  yet  the  people  dress  so  much  more 
rationally  than  they  do  at  the  North  on  the  sea- 
board, that  health  and  even  comfort  are  but  little 

c  c  2 


306  A    WINTER    IN    THE     WEST. 

invaded.  I  remember,  when  first  overtaken  by  the 
cold  weather  on  the  prairies,  I  was  travelling  with 
a  simple  furred  wrapper  as  an  overcoat  and  a  pair 
of  carpet  socks  over  my  boots ;  the  last  of  which, 
from  their  clumsy  and  effeminate  appearance,  I 
long  neglected  to  put  on.  But  on  arriving  one 
night  at  a  lonely  shanty,  I  found  an  old  Indian 
trader  just  disencumbering  himself  of  his  travel- 
ling gear,  and  the  lesson  has  not  been  readily  for- 
gotten. His  disrobing  reminded  me  of  the  grave- 
digger  in  Hamlet  with  his  sixteen  jackets  (a  stale 
joke,  by-the-by,  which  is  now  rarely  practised  upon 
the  stage), — and  a  man-at-arms  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  with  his  armour  of  plate  and  triple  coat 
of  twisted  mail,  was  not  cased  in  better  proof  than 
was  my  Indian  trader.  Among  the  articles  of 
dress  that  I  recollect  were  a  blanket-coat  over  an 
ordinary  surtout,  a  plaid  cloak  upon  that,  and  a 
buffalo  robe  trumping  the  whole  ;  while  three  pair 
of  woollen  socks,  buckskin  moccasins,  and  long 
boots  of  buffalo-skin  with  the  fur  inside,  assisted 
his  leggins  of  green  baize  in  keeping  his  extremi- 
ties warm ;  and  a  huge  hood  and  visor  of  fur  set 
Jack  Frost  at  defiance  should  he  assail  from  above. 
I  do  not  by  any  means  mention  all  these  defences  as 
constituting  the  ordinary  apparel  of  the  country; 
for  every  one  on  the  frontiers  dresses  just  as  he 


A    WINTER    IN     THE    WEST.  307 

pleases,  and  whether  he  has  his  blankets  and  skins 
made  up  into  coats  and  boots,  or  wears  them  loose 
about  his  person,  no  one  comments  upon  it.  The 
utmost  freedom  of  dress  prevails  ;  and  you  may 
see  the  same  person  three  days  in  succession  with 
a  leather  hunting-shirt,  a  surtout  of  scarlet  wool- 
len, or  a  coat  of  superfine  broadcloth  just  from  St. 
Louis,  all  worn  in  any  company  with  the  same  air 
of  independence  ;  and  while  several  colours  and 
textures  frequently  combine  in  the  same  dress,  the 
result  is  of  course  an  outrageous  violation  of  taste 
in  individual  instances,  but  great  picturesqueness  of 
costume  upon  the  whole  :  the  very  figure  whose 
apparel  is  most  obnoxious  to  the  laws  of  good 
taste  as  last  enacted  by  fashion,  being  often  that 
which,  of  all  others,  a  painter  would  introduce  into 
a  landscape  to  relieve  its  colours,  or  copy  for  some 
romantic  charm  of  its  own. 

The  country  through  which  we  now  drove, 
though  only  interspersed  here  and  there  with  wood- 
land, presented  a  very  different  appearance  from 
the  open  prairie  below.  In  the  vicinity  of  Galena  it 
was  much  broken  by  rocky  ravines  and  deep  gul- 
lies— which,  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  must  afford 
a  ready  passage  for  the  water  created  by  the  melt- 
ing of  large  bodies  of  snow  ;  and  far  away  towards 
the    Mississippi,   the  inequalities   of  the   surface 


308  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

showed  like  a  distant  range  of  mountains,  that  on 
nearer  approach  resolved  themselves  into  three  or 
four  distinct  hills,  which  again  on  reaching  their 
banks  proved  to  be  only  rocky  eminences,  of  a 
few  hundred  feet  elevation — standing  isolated  on 
the  vast  plain,  like  excrescences  thrown  up  by  some 
eruption  from  its  surface.  Beyond  these,  again, 
the  country  became  beautifully  undulating  ;  and 
when  the  warm  light  of  sunset  glanced  along  the 
tall  yellow  grass  which  raised  its  tapering  spears 
above  the  snowy  surface,  and  the  purple  light  of 
evening  deepened  in  the  scattered  groves  that 
rested  on  its  bosom,  it  required  no  exercise  of 
fancy  to  conceive  that  these  were  sloping  lawns, 
and  smooth  meadows,  and  open  parks,  which  the 
gathering  shades  of  night  were  stealing  from  the 
eye.  But  at  last,  just  where  the  landscape  was 
becoming  almost  too  broken  to  keep  up  these  asso- 
ciations of  high  cultivation,  a  distant  light  ap- 
peared glimmering  at  the  bottom  of  a  rocky  valley, 
and  slipping  and  floundering  through  the  snow 
which  partially  smoothed  the  rugged  descent,  we 
entered  a  small  hamlet  of  log-huts,  and  drove  up 
to  the  door  of  a  frame-building,  which  proved  to 
be  the  public-house  of"  Mineral  Point." 

A  portly  Tennesseean,  of  some  six  feet  high,  re- 
ceived us  warmly  at  the  door,  and  hurried  me  into 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  309 

a  room  where  a  large  fire  of  bur-oak,  and  a  smok- 
ing supper  of  venison  and  hot  corn-cakes  were 
alike  welcomed.  Half  a  dozen  miners  in  leather 
shirts  or  belted  coats  of  Kentucky  jean  were 
lounging  about  the  establishment,  while  a  tall  back- 
woodsman in  a  fringed  hunting-frock  was  stretched 
on  several  chairs,  with  a  pipe  in  one  hand,  and  the 
other  resting  on  a  Pelham  novel,  which,  with  a 
volume  of  Shakspeare,  an  old  Bible,  and  the 
"  Western  Songster,"  formed  a  pyramid  beneath 
his  brawny  arm.  "  Whirling  Thunder,"  the  Win- 
nebago chief,  had,  as  I  was  informed,  just  left  the 
establishment,  or  our  party  would  have  been  per- 
fect. The  old  fellow,  who,  I  presume,  is  superan- 
nuated, had  been  breathing  revenge  and  slaughter 
against  the  Sauks  and  Foxes,  who,  he  says,  have 
killed  a  number  of  his  tribe,  and  he  avows  a  deter- 
mination to  come  down  upon  the  enemy  with  seven 
hundred  warriors,  though  I  believe  it  is  well  known 
that  there  are  not  at  present  half  the  number  in  his 
tribe,  and  they  scattered  far  and  wide  on  their  hunt- 
ing expeditions.*     As  it  was,  however,  I  found  the 

*  The  animosity  existing  between  these  warlike  tribes,  it  would 
seem,  has  lately  manifested  itself  beneath  the  very  guns  of  Fort 
Crawford.  In  an  article  which  appeared  in  the  St.  Louis  papers 
while  these  pages  were  passing  through  the  press,  it  is  stated, 
under  date  of  November  18th,  that  "  The  Indians  in  the  vicinity 


310  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

company  into  which  I  was  thrown  in  more  than  one 
way  agreeable.  They  were  civil  and  convers- 
able ;  and  when  a  cigar  was  handed  me  by  a  well- 

of  Prairie  du  Chien  have  again  been  engaged  in  hostile  acts, 
which  portend  a  serious  termination.     A  party  of  Sauks  and 
Foxes,  after  killino-  several  Menominies  on  Grant  River,  attacked 
a  lodge  of  Winnebagoes  on  an  island  about  three  miles  above 
Prairie  du  Chien.     It  was  occupied  at  the  time  by  women  and 
children  only,  the  warriors  being  absent  on  a  hunting  excursion. 
Suddenly  the  Sauk  and  Fox  party  made  their  appearance  before 
the  lodge,  fired  into  it,  tomahawked  and  scalped  ten  of  the  in- 
mates.    But  one  of  the  Sauk  warriors  lost  his  life,  and  that  was 
by  the  hand  of  a  Winnebago  boy,  about  fifteen  years  of  age. 
The  youth  was  standing  at  the  door  of  the  lodge,  between  a 
younger  brother  and  sister,  when  two  of  the  warriors  made  their 
appearance  and  fired  upon   them.     Recollecting  instantly   that 
an  old  gun  remained  in   the  lodge  loaded,  he  procured  it,  and 
awaited  the  return  of  the  foe,  who  had  retreated  for  the  purpose 
of  reloading  their  guns.     As  soon  as  they  appeared  before  him, 
he  took  deliberate  aim  at  one  of  them,  fired,  and  the  bullet  went 
through  the  heart  of  his  enemy.     He  then  escaped  at  the  interior 
of  the  lodge,  made  his  way  for  the  river,  swam  it,  and  gave  inform- 
ation of  the  massacre  at  Fort  Crawford.    A  detachment  of  troops 
was  immediately  ordered  out  in  pursuit  of  the  murderers,  but,  as 
far  as  known,  without  success.    The  Winnebagoes,  it  is  said,  had 
determined  on  retaliation,  and  their  warriors  were  already  collect- 
ing.    Their  foe,  it  is  also  known,  are  ready  to  receive  them, — 
having  been  recently.arming  and  equipping  themselves  for  fight. 
Towards  the  Winnebagoes  all  parties  of  the  Sauks  and  Foxes 
have  an  undying  hatred.     They  view  them  as  having  been  the 
cause,  by  their  bad  counsels,  of  all  the  calamities  brought  upon 


A     WINTER    IN    THE     WEST.  311 

dressed  gentleman  engaged  in  the  mines,  who  had 
sat  down  to  supper  with  us,  I  stretched  my  legs 
before  the  fire,  and  soon  felt  myself  perfectly  at 
home.  The  rumours  of  Indian  wars,  with  the 
incidents  in  those  already  gone  by,  being  thoroughly 
discussed,  feats  of  strength  and  activity  were  next 
introduced ;  whereat,  a  burly  broad-shouldered 
fellow,  with  a  head  of  hair  like  a  boat's  swab, 
jumped  on  his  feet,  and  shaking  the  flaps  of  his 
rough  kersey  doublet  like  a  pair  of  wings,  he 
crowed  and  swore  that  he  could  throw  any  man 
of  his  weight  in  the  mines.  "  Why,  Bill  Arm- 
strong," cried  a  little  old  man,  who  I  was  assured 
was  nearly  eighty  years  of  age,  shaking  the  ashes 
from  his  pipe  the  while,  "  I  could  double  up  two 
such  fellows  as  you  in  my  time  ;  and  I  think  as  it 
is  (slowly  rising  and  collaring  the  puissant  Bill),  I'll 
whip  one  of  them  now,  for  a  treat ;"  they  grappled 
at  once,  and  Armstrong  good-naturedly  allowing 
the  old  man  to  put  him  down,  a  laugh  was  raised 
at  his  expense.  But  Bill  was  too  much  a  cock  of 
the  walk  to  mind  it,  and  striding  up  to  the  bar,  he 
called  out,  "  Come  here,  old  fellow,  and  take  your 

them  by  the  late  war,  and  as  having  acted  a  treacherous  and 
infamous  part  at  the  termination  of  it.  Many  circumstances 
concur  to  make  it  more  than  probable,  that,  should  a  conflict  take 
place,  it  will  be  a  long  and  bloody  one." 


312  A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST. 

treat — you're  a  steamboat;  but  who  couldn't  be 
beat  by  a  fellow  that  had  forty  years  the  advantage 
of  him." 

The  next  day's  sun  found  us,  when  a  few  hours 
high,  in  a  country  which,  though  not  a  house  was 
to  be  seen  for  miles,  I  can  only  compare,  with  its 
intermingling  of  prairies  and  groves,  rocky  ravines 
and  rapid  brooks  of  sparkling  water,  to  the  appear- 
ance which  the  beautiful  cultivated  districts  along 
the  Hudson  would  present,  if  the  fences  and  farm- 
houses were  taken  away.  Its  varied  aspect  was 
far  more  pleasing  to  my  eye  than  the  immense 
plains  of  table-land  below,  where  the  sound  of  a 
water-fall  is  never  to  be  heard,  and  a  stone  larger 
than  a  pebble  is  (unless  on  the  banks  of  the  Illinois) 
rarely  met  with.  The  soil,  indeed,  is  not  so  rich, 
but  the  country  is  unquestionably  more  healthy ; 
and  though  the  climate  is  actually  more  severe  in 
winter,  yet  the  wind  is  so  much  broken  by  the 
numerous  groves,  and  the  general  inequalities  of 
surface,  that  one  suffers  much  less  from  cold.  A 
great  error  is  committed  by  government  in  keep- 
ing the  wild  land  of  this  region  out  of  market,  for 
the  patches  of  woodland,  though  frequent,  are  not 
so  dense  as  those  below  ;  and  the  number  of  smelt- 
ing furnaces  of  lead  ore,  which  are  scattered  over 
the  whole  country,  between  Rock  River  and  the 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  313 

Ouisconsin  tends  to  diminish  them  so  rapidly,  that 
a  dozen  years  hence  sufficient  wood  will  hardly  be 
left  for  the  ordinary  purposes  of  the  farmer.  What- 
ever measures  are  adopted,  however — and  I  be- 
lieve there  is  a  bill  in  relation  to  these  lands  now 
pending  in  Congress — the  pre-emption  rights  of  the 
first  settlers  should  be  secured  in  the  most  liberal 
manner.  Their  sufferings  from  three  Indian  wars 
within  ten  years,  and  their  endurance  of  every  risk 
and  privation,  are  almost  incredible  ;  and,  consider- 
ing that  it  will  take  them  some  time  now  to  re- 
cover from  the  last  affair  of  Black  Hawk,  gov- 
ernment ought  to  give  them  several  years'  credit ; 
but  the  early  sale  of  the  lands  I  believe  to  be  in- 
dispensable to  the  future  welfare  of  one  of  the 
finest  regions  in  the  world.  The  truth  is,  that  no 
smelting  should  be  done  in  the  interior,  but  the 
mineral  should  be  transported  to  points  where  fuel 
is  more  abundant,  and  the  timber  now  growing 
upon  the  spot  left  for  the  use  of  the  farmers  and 
the  miners,  to  whom  it  is  indispensable-  for  the 
prosecution  of  their  labours.  Such  will  hardly 
be  the  case  until  a  property  in  lands  is  established, 
and  individuals  are  no  longer  permitted  to  sweep 
grove  after  grove  from  the  soil,  till  the  country 
begins  to  assimilate  in  some  places  to  those  leafless 

VOL.  I. D  d 


314  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

tracts  in  Illinois,  which  will  probably  remain  un- 
settled prairie  for  a  century  to  come. 

I  was  particularly  struck  with  the  bold  life 
which  these  miners  have  long  led — the  chief  dan- 
gers of  which,  it  is  presumed,  are  now  over — by 
observing  a  strong  block-house  erected  among  a 
cluster  of  small  shantees  where  two  brothers  lived, 
with  whom  we  stopped  to  take  some  refreshment 
at  noon.  They  were  miners  and  farmers  together  ; 
and  carrying  on  their  business  remote  from  any 
other  house  or  settlement,  they  probably  sent  the 
mineral  and  vegetable  productions  of  their  favoured 
soil  to  market  at  Galena  in  the  same  car.  They 
had  struck  the  vein  of  ore  which  thev  were  work- 
inff  in  badger-hunting — the  habits  of  that  animal 
being  of  great  assistance  to  the  miner  in  exploring 
for  mineral.  I  saw  at  the  same  place  a  fine  dog 
terribly  gored  by  a  wild  boar — the  descendant  of 
the  domestic  hog,  which  runs  wild  in  this  region, 
and  sometimes  makes  a  good  hunt. 

Our  route  hither,  which  was  by  no  means  direct, 
carried  us  through  a  broken  savage  country,  where 
a  thousand  clear  streams  seemed  to  have  their  birth 
among  the  rocks — singing  away — though  the  earth 
was  wrapped 

"  In  sap-consuming  winter's  drizzled  snow," 


A     WINTER    IN     THE     WEST.  315 

as  if  the  leaves  of  June  quivered  over  their  crystal 
currents.  At  one  time  these  crisped  fountains 
were  the  only  objects  that  gave  life  to  a  burnt 
forest  through  which  we  rode,  where  the  tall 
branchless  and  charred  trees  stood  motionless  on 
the  steep  hill-side,  or  lay  in  wild  disorder,  as  they 
had  tumbled  from  the  rockv  heights  into  a  ravine 
below.  Emerging  from  this  desolate  region,  where 
the  tracks  of  bears  and  other  wild  animals  were  to 
be  seen  on  every  side,  we  launched  out  on  one  of 
the  loveliest  prairies  I  ever  beheld.  It  was  about 
a  mile  wide,  and  not  more  than  four  or  five  in 
length,  and  smooth  as  a  billiard-table,  with  two 
small  islets  of  wood  in  the  centre.  Our  horses, 
which  had  seemed  almost  fagged  out  while  slipping 
and  stumbling  among  the  rocks  and  fallen  trees  in 
the  timbered  land,  now  pricked  up  their  ears  and 
snorted  with  animation,  as  thev  made  our  light 
sleigh  skim  over  the  smooth  plain. 

It  was  afternoon  on  the  third  day  after  leaving 
Galena,  that  on  descending  an  abrupt  steppe  of  about 
fifty  yards,  we  came  to  a  small  tributary  of  the  Ouis- 
consin,  winding  through  a  narrow  valley  below. 
Following  down  the  slender  rill,  whose  banks  ex- 
hibited no  shrubbery  save  a  few  dwarf  willows, 
we  crossed  a  wooded  bottom,  where  the  long  grass 
among  the  trees  shot  above  the  snow  to  the  height 


316  A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST. 

of  our  horses'  shoulders,  and  reached  at  last  the 
Ouisconsin,  where  the  stream  might  be  near  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  wide.  After  trying  the  ice  in 
several  places  with  long  poles,  we  ventured  at  last 
to  cross  ;  and  scaling  a  bold  bluff  at  the  opposite 
side,  paused  a  moment  at  a  trading-house,  owned 
by  a  Frenchman,  to  let  our  horses  blow.  A  band  of 
Winnebagoes  were  standing  at  the  door ;  and  as 
they  were  all  in  mourning  for  some  recently-de- 
ceased relations,*  their  broad  blunt  features,  black- 
ened as  they  were,  made  them  look  like  Hottentots. 
A  ride  of  six  miles,  through  a  high  rolling  prairie, 
interspersed  with  open  groves  of  oak,  brought 
us  at  last  in  view  of  the  bluffs  of  the  upper  Missis- 
sippi, rising  in  rocky  masses  to  the  height  of  four 
or  five  hundred  feet  above  the  bed  of  that  beautiful 
river,  whose  iron-bound  banks  and  gentle  crystal- 
line current  bear  but  little  affinity  to  the  marshy 
shores  and  turbid  tide  which  are  distinguished  by 
the  same  name,  after  the  Missouri  gives  a  new 
character  to  its  waters.  Never  shall  I  forget  the 
first  view  of  "  The  Father  of  Rivers,"  as  a  reach 
of  several  miles — shut  in,  partly  by  its  own  bluffs, 
and  partly  by  those  of  the  Ouisconsin,  with  its  nu- 
merous islets  smiling  in  the  light  of  the  setting  sun 
stretched  like  some  comely  lake  of  the  west 

*  See  note  R. 


A     WINTER     IN     THE     WEST.  3J7 

before  my  eye.  It  was  girdled,  apparently,  by 
inaccessible  cliffs  on  three  sides,  and  fringed  bv 
a  broad  meadow — which  in  its  turn  was  bounded 
and  sheltered  by  lofty  bluffs — on  the  fourth.  That 
meadow  lay  now  beneath  me, — and  it  was  Prairie 
du  Chien. 


Dd  2 


APPENDIX. 


Note  A. — Page  56. 

The  story  of  Adam  Poe's  desperate  encounter  with  two  In- 
dians, as  told  in  "  Metcalf 's  Indian  Warfare  of  the  West,"  is 
one  of  the  most  characteristic  traditions  of  the  Ohio. 

It  was  about  the  close  of  the  Revolution  that  a  party  of  six  or 
seven  Wyandot  Indians  crossed  over  to  the  south  side  of  the 
Ohio  River,  fifty  miles  below  Pittsburg,  and  in  their  hostile  excur- 
sions among  the  early  settlers  killed  an  old  man,  whom  they  found 
alone  in  one  of  the  houses  which  they  plundered.  The  news 
soon  spread  among  the  white  people ;  seven  or  eight  of  whom 
seized  their  rifles,  and  pursued  the  marauders.  In  this  party  were 
two  brothers,  named  Adam  and  Andrew  Poe,  strong  and  active 
men,  and  much  respected  in  the  settlement.  They  followed  up 
the  chase  all  night,  and  in  the  morning  found  themselves,  as  they 
expected,  upon  the  right  track.  The  Indians  could  now  be  easily 
followed  by  their  traces  on  the  dew.  The  print  of  one  very 
larfre  foot  was  seen,  and  it  was  thus  known  that  a  famous  Indian 
of  uncommon  size  and  strength  must  be  of  the  party.  The 
track  led  to  the  river.  The  whites  followed  it  directly,  Adam 
Poe  excepted ;  who,  fearing  that  they  might  be  taken  by  sur- 
prise, broke  off  from  the  rest.  His  intention  was  to  creep  along 
the  edge  of  the  bank  under  cover  of  the  trees  and  bushes,  and  to 
fall  upon  the  savages  so  suddenly  that  he  might  get  them  between 
his  own  lire  and  that  of  his  companions.  At  the  point  where  he 
suspected  they  were,  he  saw  the  rafts  which  they  were  accus- 


320  APPENDIX. 

tomed  to  push  before  them  when  they  swam  the  river,  and  on 
which  they  placed  their  blankets,  tomahawks,  and  guns.  The 
Indians  themselves  he  could  not  see,  and  was  obliged  to  go  partly 
down  the  bank  to  get  a  shot  at  them.  As  he  descended  with  his 
rifle  cocked,  he  discovered  two — the  celebrated  large  Indian  and  a 
smaller  one,  separated  from  the  others,  and  holding  their  rifles 
also  cocked  in  their  hands.  He  took  aim  at  the  large  one,  but  his 
rifle  snapped,  without  giving  the  intended  fire.  The  Indians 
turned  instantly  at  the  sound.  Poe  was  too  near  them  to  re- 
treat, and  had  not  time  to  cock  and  take  aim  again.  Suddenly 
he  leaped  down  upon  them,  and  caught  the  large  Indian  by  the 
clothes,  on  his  breast,  and  the  small  one  by  throwing  an  arm 
round  his  neck :  they  all  fell  together,  but  Poe  was  uppermost. 
While  he  was  struggling  to  keep  down  the  large  Indian,  the 
small  one,  at  a  word  spoken  by  his  fellow-savage,  slipped  his  neck 
out  of  Poe's  embrace,  and  ran  to  the  raft  for  a  tomahawk.  The 
lartre  Indian  at  this  moment  threw  his  arms  about  Poe's  bod}T, 
and  held  hirn  fast,  that  the  other  might  come  up  and  kill  him. 
Poe  watched  the  approach  and  the  descending  arm  of  the  small 
Indian  so  well,  that  at  the  instant  of  the  intended  sfrroke  he  raised 
his  foot,  and  by  a  vigorous  and  skilful  blow  knocked  the  toma. 
hawk  from  the  assailant's  hand.  At  this,  the  large  Indian  cried 
out  with  an  exclamation  of  contempt  for  the  small  one.  The 
latter,  however,  caught  his  tomahawk  again  and  approached  more 
cautiously,  waving  his  arm  up  and  down  with  mock  blows,  to 
deceive  Poe  as  to  the  stroke  which  was  intended  to  be  real  and 
fatal.  Poe,  however,  was  so  vigilant  and  active  that  he  averted 
the  tomahawk  from  his  head,  and  received  it  upon  his  wrist  with 
a  considerable  wound,  deep  enough  to  cripple  but  not  entirely  to 
destroy  the  use  of  his  hand.  In  this  crisis  of  peril  he  made  a 
violent  effort,  and  broke  loose  from  the  large  Indian.  He  snatched 
a  rifle,  and  shot  the  small  one  as  he  ran  up  a  third  time  with  his 
lifted  tomahawk.  The  large  Indian  was  now  on  his  feet,  and 
grasping  Poe  by  the  shoulder  and  the  leg,  hurled  him  in  the  air, 
heels  over  head  upon  the  shore.  Poe  instantly  rose,  and  a  new 
and  more  desperate  struggle  ensued.  The  bank  was  slippery, 
and  they  fell  into  the  water,  when  each  strove  to  drown  the  other. 
Their  efforts  were  long  and  doubtful,  each  alternately  under  and 
half- strangled  ;    until    Poe,   fortunately,   grasped  with   his    un- 


NOTES.  321 

wounded  hand  the  tuft  of  hair  upon  the  scalp  of  the  Indian,  and 
forced  his  head  into  the  water.  This  appeared  to  be  decisive  of 
his  fate,  for  soon  he  manifested  all  the  symptoms  of  a  drowning 
man,  bewildered  in  the  moment  of  death.  Poe  relaxed  his  hold, 
and  discovered  too  late  the  stratagem.  The  Indian  was  instantly 
upon  his  feet  again,  and  engaged  anew  in  the  fierce  contest  for 
victory  and  life.  They  were  naturally  carried  farther  into  the 
stream,  and  the  current  becoming  stronger  bore  them  beyond  their 
depth.  They  were  now  compelled  to  loosen  their  hold  upon  each 
other,  and  to  swim  for  mutual  safety.  Both  sought  the  shore  to 
seize  a  gun  ;  but  the  Indian  was  the  best  swimmer,  and  gained  it 
first.  Poe  then  turned  immediately  back  into  the  water  to  avoid 
a  greater  danger — meaning  to  dive,  if  possible,  to  escape  the  fire. 
Fortunately  for  him,  the  Indian  caught  up  the  rifle  which  had 
been  discharged  into  the  breast  of  the  smaller  savage.  At  this 
critical  juncture  Poe's  brother  Andrew  presented  himself.  He 
had  just  left  the  party  who  had  been  in  pursuit  of  the  other 
Indians,  and  who  had  killed  all  but  one  of  them  at  the  expense  of 
three  of  their  own  lives.  He  had  heard  that  Adam  was  in  great 
peril,  and  alone  in  a  fight  with  two  against  him  ;  for  one  of  the 
whites  had  mistaken  Adam  in  the  water  with  his  bloody  hand  for 
a  wounded  Indian,  and  fired  a  bullet  into  his  shoulder.  Adam 
now  cried  out  to  his  brother  to  kill  the  big  Indian  on  the  shore ; 
but  Andrew's  gun  had  been  discharged,  and  was  not  again  loaded. 
The  contest  was  now  between  the  savage  and  Andrew.  Each 
laboured  to  load  his  rifle  first.  The  Indian,  after  putting  in  his 
powder,  and  hurrying  his  motions  to  force  down  the  ball,  drew 
out  his  ramrod  with  such  violence  as  to  throw  it  some  yards  into 
the  water.  While  he  ran  to  pick  it  up,  Andrew  gained  an  ad- 
vantage, as  the  Indian  had  still  to  ram  his  bullet  home.  But  a 
hair  would  have  turned  the  scale  ;  for  the  savnge  was  just  raising 
his  gun  to  his  eye  with  unerring  aim,  when  he  received  the  fatal 
fire  of  the  backwoodsman.  Andrew  then  jumped  into  the  river  to 
assist  his  wounded  brother  to  the  shore  ;  but  Adam,  thinking  more 
of  carrying  the  big  Indian  home,  as  a  trophy,  than  of  his  own 
wounds,  urged  Andrew  to  go  back  and  prevent  the  struggling 
savage  from  rolling  himself  into  the  current  and  escaping.  An- 
drew, however,  was  too  solicitous  for  the  fate  of  Adam  to  allow 
him  to  obey  ;  and  the  high-souled  Wyandot,  jealous  of  his  honour 


322  APPENDIX. 

as  a  warrior,  even  in  death,  and  knowing  well  the  intention  of  his 
white  conquerors,  succeeded  in  retaining  life  and  action  long 
enough  to  reach  the  current,  by  which  his  dead  body  was  swept 
down  beyond  the  chance  of  pursuit. 

[The  above  account  is  abridged  from  the  narrative  given  in  the 
interesting  compilation  published  in  early  life  by  Dr.  Samuel  L. 
Metcalf — since  better  known  as  the  ingenious  author  of  "  A  New 
Theorv  of  Magnetism,"  "  Molecular  Attractions,"  &c  The  work 
is  believed  to  be  out  of  print ;  and  it  is  a  subject  of  regret  that 
Dr.  M..  who  was  born  amoncr  the  scenes  celebrated  in  these  wild 

7  O 

narratives,  cannot  find  time  amid  his  graver  researches  to  give 
his  youthful  publication  in  a  new  dress  to  the  world.] 

Note  B.—Paoe  63. 

Colonel  James  Smith,  of  the  provincial  forces,  who  was  a 
prisoner  in  Fort  Du  Quesne  at  the  time,  and  saw  the  attacking 
party  march  out  to  Braddock's  Field,  estimates  their  number  at 
even  less.  The  following  is  his  account  (as  published  in  1799) 
of  what  passed  in  the  Fort  immediately  previous  and  subsequent 
to  the  conflict. 

11  On  the  9th  day  of  July,  1755,  I  heard  a  great  stir  in  the  Fort. 
As  I  could  then  walk  with  a  staff  in  my  hand,  I  went  out  of  the 
door  which  was  just  by  the  wall  of  the  Fort,  and  stood  upon  ths 
wall,  and  viewed  the  Indians  in  a  huddle  before  the  gate,  where 
were  barrels  of  powder,  bullets,  flints,  &c,  and  every  one  taking 
what  suited  ;  I  saw  the  Indians  also  march  off  in  rank  entire  ; 
likewise  the  French,  Canadians,  and  some  regulars.  After  view- 
ing the  Indians  and  French  in  different  positions,  I  computed 
them  to  be  about  four  hundred,  and  wondered  that  they  attempted 
to  go  out  against  Braddock  with  so  small  a  party.  I  was  then  in 
high  hopes  that  I  would  soon  see  them  flying  before  the  British 
troops,  and  that  General  Braddock  would  take  the  Fort  and  rescue 
me.  I  remained  anxious  to  know  the  event  of  this  day  ;  and  in 
the  afternoon  I  again  observed  a  great  noise  and  commotion  in 
the  Fort ;  and  though  at  that  time  I  could  not  understand  much, 
yet  I  found  that  it  was  the  voice  of  joy  and  triumph,  and  found 
that  they  had  received  what  I  called  bad  news.  I  had  observed 
some  of  the  old  country  soldiers   speak  Dutch  ;  and  as  I  spoke 


NOTES.  323 

Dutch,  I  went  to  one  of  them  and  asked  him  vvhat  was  the  news. 
He  told  me  that  a  runner  had  just  arrived,  who  said  that  Brad- 
dock  would  certainly  be  defeated  ;  that  the  Indians  and   French 
had  surrounded   him,  and  were  concealed   behind  trees  and   in 
gullies,  and  kept  a  constant  fire  upon  the  English,  and  that  they 
saw  the  English  falling  in  heaps;  and   if  they  did  not  take  the 
river,  which  was  the  only  gap,  and  make  their  escape,  there  would 
not  be  one  man  left  alive  before  sunset.     Some  time  after  this  I 
heard  a  company  of  Indians  and  French  coming  in  :  I  observed 
that  they  had  a  great  many  bloody  scalps,  grenadiers'  caps,  British 
canteens,  bayonets,  &c,  with  them.     They  brought  the  news  that 
Braddock  was  defeated.     After  that,  another  company  came  in, 
which  appeared  to  be  about  one  hundred,  and  chiefly  Indians  ;   and 
it  seemed  to  me  that  almost  every  one  of  this  company  was  carry- 
ing scalps  :  after  this  came  another  company,  with  a  number  of 
wagon-horses  and  also  a  great  many  scalps.     Those  that  were 
coming  in  and  those  that  had  arrived  kept  a  constant  firing  of 
small-arms,  and   also   the  great  guns   in   the  Fort,  which  were 
accompanied  with  the  most  hideous  shouts   and  yells   from   all 
quarters,  so  that  it  appeared  to  me  as  if  the  infernal  regions  had 
broken  loose.     About  sunset  I  beheld  a  small  party  coming  in 
with  about  a  dozen  prisoners,  stripped  naked,  with  their  hands 
tied  behind  their  backs,  and  their  faces  and  part  of  their  bodies 
blacked.     These  prisoners  they  burnt  to  death  on  the  banks  of 
the  Alleghany  River,  opposite  to  the  Fort.     I  stood  on  the  Fort 
wall  until  I  beheld  them  begin  to  burn  one  of  these  men.     They 
had  tied  him  to  a  stake,  and  kept  touching  him  with  firebrands, 
red-hot  irons,  &c,  and  he  screaming  in  a  most  doleful  manner; 
the  Indians  in  the  mean  time  yelling  like  infernal  spirits.     As  this 
scene  appeared  top  shocking  for  me  to  behold,  I  returned  to  my 
lodging  both  sore  and  sorry." — A  Narrative  of  the  most  remark- 
able Occurrences  in  the  Life  and  Travels  of  Colonel  James  Smith, 
during  his  Captivity  among  the  Indians,  from  the  year  1755  until 
1759. 


Note  C.—Pagc  133. 

It  was  in  this  battle  that  the  noble  Tecumseh  fell — dying,  as  it 
was  supposed,  by  a  pistol-shot  from  Col.  Johnson.     If  Thatcher's 


324  APPENDIX. 

Indian  Biography  has  not  already  made  the  reader  familiar  with 
the  career  of  this  famous  savage,  he  is  referred  to  Mr.  School- 
craft's Travels,  where  an  authentic  account  of  Tecumseh,  inter- 
spersed with  many  characteristic  anecdotes,  will  be  found.  There 
s  also  a  succinct  biographical  sketch  of  him  in  the  Encyclopaedia 
Americana,  which  concludes  by  summing  up  his  qualities  as 
follows  : — 

11  Tecumseh  was  a  remarkable  man,  fitted  for  obtaining  great- 
ness both  in  peace  and  war.  His  eloquence  was  vivid  and  power- 
ful. He  was  sagacious  in  contriving  and  accomplishing  his  ob- 
jects, and  by  his  address  obtained  an  unlimited  influence  over  his 
savage  brethren.  Throughout  life  he  was  exemplary  in  his  habits 
of  temperance  and  adherence  to  truth.  He  was  disinterested, 
generous,  hospitable,  and  humane.  He  married  at  a  mature  age 
in  consequence  of  the  persuasions  of  his  friends,  and  left  one 
child.  In  person  he  was  about  five  feet  ten  inches  high,  with 
handsome  features,  a  symmetrical  and  powerful  frame,  and  an  air 
of  dignity  and  defiance." 

Note  D.— Page  164. 

"The  Ottawas  say  that  there  are  two  great  Beings  that  rule 
and  govern  the  universe,  who  are  at  war  with  each  other, — the 
one  they  call  Maneto  and  the  other  Matche-Mancto.  They  say 
that  Maneto  is  all  kindness  and  love,  and  that  Matche-Maneto  is 
an  evil  spirit  that  delights  in  doing  mischief;  and  some  of  them 
think  that  they  are  equal  in  power,  and  therefore  worship  the 
evil  spirit  out  of  a  principle  of  fear.  Others  doubt  which  of 
the  two  may  be  the  most  powerful,  and  therefore  endeavour  to 
keep  in  favour  with  both,  by  giving  each  of  them  some  kind  of 
worship.  Others  say  that  Maneto  is  the  first  great  cause,  and 
therefore  must  be  all-powerful  and  supreme,  and  ought  to  be 
adored  and  worshipped  ;  whereas  Matche-Maneto  ought  to  be 
rejected  and  despised." — Col.  Smith's  Narrative. 

Note  E.—  Page  201. 

"  The  Pottawattamies,  whose  name,  as  sounded  by  themselves, 
is  Po-ta-wa-to-mi  (in  their  language,  '  We  are  making  Fire'), 


NOTES.  325 

appear  to  be  connected,  not  only  by  language,  but  also  by  their 
manners,  customs,  and  opinions,  with  the  numerous  nations  of 
Algonquin  origin.  ******** 
Their  notions  of  religion  appear  to  be  of  the  most  simple  kind — 
they  believe  in  the  existence  of  an  only  God,  whom  they  term 
Kasha-Maneto,  or  Great  Spirit.  Kasha  means  great,  and  Maneto 
an  irresistible  being.  The  epithet  of  Kasha  is  never  applied  to 
any  other  word  but  as  connected  with  the  Supreme  Being." 

[Here,  with  a  more  minute  account  of  the  usages  of  this  tribe, 
follows  an  examination  of  the  charge  of  cannibalism,  brought 
against  the  Pottawattamies  by  numerous  travellers.] 

"  The  Pottawattamies  have  a  number  of  war-songs,  formed  for 
the  most  part  of  one  or  two  ideas,  expressed  in  short  and  forcible 
sentences,  which  they  repeat  over  and  over  in  a  low  humming 
kind  of  tune,  which  to  our  ears  appeared  very  monotonous  :  they 
have  no  love-songs  ;  the  business  of  singing  (among  them*)  being 
always  connected  with  warlike  avocations.  Singing  is  always 
attended  by  the  dance.  The  only  musical  instruments  which 
they  use  are  the  drum,  rattle,  and  a  kind  of  flageolet.  Their 
games  arc  numerous  and  diversified  ;  they  resemble  many  of 
those  kne  .vn  to  civilized  men — such  as  gymnastic  exercises,  bat- 
tledore, pitching  the  bar,  ball,  tennis,  and  cup-ball,  for  which 
they  use  the  spur  of  the  deer  with  a  string  attached  to  it. 

"  The  Pottawattamies  are,  for  the  most  part,  well-proportioned  ; 
about  five  feet  eight  inches  in  height  ;  possessed  of  much  mus- 
cular strength  in  the  arm,  but  rather  weak  in  the  back,  with  a 
strong  neck  ;  endowed  with  considerable  agility." 

[The  above  is  from  Major  Long's  Second  Expedition,  performed 
by  order  of  the  secretary  of  war,  in  1823.  The  number  of  the 
Pottawattamies  was  then  estimated  at  about  three  thousand.] 

According  to  the  information  of  one  of  their  chiefs,  "  the  Potta- 
wattamies believe  that  they  came  from  the  vicinity  of  the  Sault  de 
St.  Marie,  where  they  presume  that  they  were  created.  A  sin- 
gular belief  which  they  entertain  is,  that  the  souls  of  the  departed 
have,  on  their  way  to  the  great  prairie,  to  cross  a  large  stream, 
over  which  a  log  is  placed  as  a  bridge,  but  that  this  is  in  such 
constant  agitation  that  none  but  the  spirits  of  good  men  can  pass 

*  It  is  otherwise  at  least  with  the  Ottawas,  Chippewas,  and  Menomones. 
VOL.  I. — Ee 


326  APPENDIX. 

over  it  in  safety  ;  while  those  of  the  bad  slip  from  the  log  into  the 
water,  and  are  never  after  heard  of.  This  information  they  pre- 
tend to  have  had  revealed  to  them  by  one  of  their  ancestors,  who, 
being  dead,  travelled  to  the  edge  of  the  stream,  but  not  liking  to 
venture  on  the  log,  determined  to  return  to  the  land  of  the  living  ; 
which  purpose  he  effected,  having  been  seen  once  more  among 
his  friends  two  days  after  his  reputed  death.  He  informed  them 
of  what  he  had  observed,  and  further  told  them  that,  while  on  the 
verge  of  the  stream,  he  had  heard  the  sounds  of  the  drum,  to  the 
beat  of  which  the  blessed  were  dancing  on  the  opposite  prairie." 
— Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  the  Source  of  St.  Peter's  River, 
by  W.  H.  Keating,  A.M.,  &c. 

Note  F.— Page  202. 

"  In  descending  the  Ontonagon  River,  which  falls  into  Lake 
Superior,  our  Indian  guides  stopped  on  the  east  side  of  the  river 
to  examine  a  bear-fall  that  had  been  previously  set,  and  were 
overjoyed  to  find  a  large  bear  entrapped.  As  it  was  no  great 
distance  from  the  river,  we  all  landed  to  enjoy  the  sight.  The 
animal  sat  upon  his  fore-paws,  facing  us,  the  hinder  paws  being 
pressed  to  the  ground  by  a  heavy  weight  of  logs,  which  had  been 
arranged  in  such  a  manner  as  to  allow  the  bear  to  creep  under ; 
and  when,  by  seizing  the  bait,  he  had  sprung  the  trap,  he  could 
not  extricate  himself,  although  with  his  fore-paws  he  had  demol- 
ished a  part  of  the  work.  After  viewing  him  for  some  time,  a  ball 
was  fired  through  his  head,  but  did  not  kill  him.  The  bear  kept 
his  position,  and  seemed  to  growl  in  defiance.  A  second  ball  was 
aimed  at  the  heart,  and  took  effect ;  but  he  did  not  resign  the  con- 
test immediately,  and  was  at  last  despatched  with  an  axe.  As 
soon  as  the  bear  fell,  one  of  the  Indians  walked  up,  and  addressing 
him  by  the  name  of  Muckwah,  shook  him  by  the  paw  with  a 
smiling  countenance,  saying,  in  the  Indian  language,  he  was  sorry 
he  had  been  under  the  necessity  of  killing  him,  and  hoped  that 
the  offence  would  be  forgiven,  particularly  as  Long  Knife  (an 
American)  had  fired  one  of  the  balls." — Schoolcraft's  Journal. 

Note  G.— Page  203. 
"  The  Ottawas  have  a  very  useful  kind  of  tents  which  they 


NOTES.  327 

carry  with  them,  made  of  flags  platted  and  stitched  together  in  a 
very  artful  manner,  so  as  to  turn  rain  or  wind  well.  Each  mat 
is  made  fifteen  feet  lono-,  and  about  five  broad.  In  order  to  erect 
this  kind  of  tent,  they  cut  a  number  of  long  straight  poles,  which 
they  drive  in  the  ground  in  the  form  of  a  circle,  leaning  inwards; 
then  they  spread  the  mats  on  these  poles,  beginning  at  the  bottom 
and  extending  up,  leaving  only  a  hole  in  the  top  uncovered,  and 
this  hole  answers  the  place  of  a  chimney.  They  make  a  fire  of 
dry  split  wood  in  the  middle,  and  spread  down  bark-mats  and 
skins  for  bedding,  on  which  they  sleep  in  a  crooked  posture  all 
round  the  lire,  as  the  length  of  their  beds  will  not  admit  of  their 
stretching  themselves.  In  place  of  a  door,  they  lift  up  one  end  of 
a  mat,  and  creep  in  and  let  the  mat  fall  down  behind  them. 
These  tents  are  warm  and  dry,  and  tolerably  clear  of  smoke. 
Their  lumber  they  keep  under  birch-bark  canoes,  which  they  carry 
out  and  turn  up  for  a  shelter,  when  they  keep  every  thing  from 
the  rain.  Nothing  is  in  the  tents  but  themselves  and  their 
bedding." — Col.  Smithes  Narrative. 

Note  H.— Page  225. 

"  The  Carey  Mission-house,  so  designated  in  honour  of  the 
late  Mr.  Carey,  the  indefatigable  apostle  of  India,  is  situated 
within  about  a  mile  of  the  river,  and  twenty-five  miles  (by  land) 
above  its  mouth.  The  ground  upon  which  it  is  erected  is  the  site 
of  an  ancient  and  extensive  Potawatomi  village,  now  no  longer  in 
existence.  The  establishment  was  instituted  by  the  Baptist  Mis- 
sionary Society  in  Washington,  and  is  under  the  superintendence 
of  the  Rev.  Mr.  M'Coy,  a  man  whom,  from  all  the  reports  we 
heard  of  him,  we  should  consider  as  very  eminently  qualified  for 
the  important  trust  committed  to  him.  The  plan  adopted  in  the 
school  proposes  to  unite  a  practical  with  an  intellectual  education. 
The  boys  are  instructed  in  the  English  language,  in  reading, 
writing,  and  arithmetic.  They  are  made  to  attend  to  the  usual 
occupations  of  a  farm,  and  to  perform  every  occupation  con- 
nected with  it — such  as  ploughing,  planting,  harrowing,  &c. : 
in  these  pursuits  they  appear  to  take  great  delight.  The  system 
being  well  regulated,  they  find  time  for  every  thing,  not  only  for 
study  and  labour,  but  also  for  innocent  recreation,  in  which  they 


328  APPENDIX. 

are  encouraged  to  indulge.     The  females  receive  in  the  school 
the  same  instruction  which  is  given  to  the  boys,  and  are,  in  addi- 
tion to  this,  taught  spinning,  weaving,  and  sewing  (both  plain 
and  ornamental.     They  were  just  beginning  to  embroider — an 
Occupation  which  may  by  some  be  considered  as  unsuitable  to  the 
situation  which  they  are  destined  to  hold  in  life  ;  but  which  ap- 
pears to  us  to  be  very  judiciously  used  as  a  reward  and  stimulus  : 
it  encourages  their  taste  and  natural  talent  for  imitation,  which  is 
very  great ;  and  by  teaching  them  that  occupation  may  be  con- 
nected with  amusement,  prevent  their  relapsing  into  indolence. 
They  are  likewise  made  to  attend  to  the  pursuits  of  the  dairy, 
such  as  the  milking  of  cows,  churning  of  milk,  &c.     The  estab- 
lishment is  intended  to  be  opened  for  children  from  seven  to  four- 
teen years  old ;  they  very  properly  receive  them  at  a  much  earlier 
age,  and  even — where  a  great  desire  of  learning  was  manifested 
— older  persons  have  been  admitted.    All  appear  to  be  very  happy, 
and  to  make  as  rapid  progress  as  white  children  of  the  same 
age  would  make.     Their  principal  excellence  rests  in  works  of 
imitation  ;  they  write  astonishingly  well,  and  many  display  great 
natural  talent  for  drawing.     The  institution  receives  the  counte- 
nance of  the  most  respectable  among  the  Indians,  who  visit  the 
establishment    occasionally,   appear  pleased   with  it,  and  show 
their  favour  to  it  by  presents  of  sugar,  venison,  &c,  which  they 
often  make  to  the  family  of  the  missionary.     The  establishment, 
being  sanctioned  by  the  war  department,  receives  annually  one 
thousand  dollars  from  the  United  States,  for  the  support  of  a 
teacher  and  blacksmith,  according  to  the  conditions  of  the  treaty 
concluded  at  Chicago  in  1821  by  Governor  Cass  and  Mr.  Sibley, 
commissioners  on  the  part  of  the  United  States." 

[The  above  interesting  account  of  the  Carey  Mission  is 
abridged  from  that  given  in  the  narrative  of  Long's  expedition. 
The  time  that  has  elapsed  since  it  originally  appeared  has  of 
course  diminished  its  present  value  ;  but  the  author  not  having 
had  an  opportunity  of  visiting  the  establishment,  and  finding, 
from  all  the  inquiries  he  could  make  regarding  it,  that  the  institu- 
tion is  sustaining  itself  efficiently  upon  the  plan  above  detailed, 
he  has  thought  that  it  would  be  more  satisfactory  to  the  reader 
to  have  this  compendium  of  an  official  report  in  the  appendix, 


NOTES.  329 


than  to  dwell  upon  any  hearsay  information  which   he   might 
have  supplied  in  the  text.] 


Note  I. — Page  225 


o 


"  They  made  their  winter  cabins  in  the  following  form  :  they 
cut  logs  about  fifteen  feet  long,  and  laid  these  logs  upon  each 
other,  and  drove  posts  in  the  ground,  at  each  end,  to  keep  them 
together  ;  the  posts  they  tied  together  at  the  top  with  bark  ;  and 
by  this  means  raised  a  wall  fifteen  feet  long  and  about  four  feet 
high,  and  in  the  same  manner  they  raised  another  wall  opposite 
to  this  at  about  twelve  feet  distance  ;  then  they  drove  forks  in  the 
ground  in  the  centre  of  each  end,  and  laid  a  strong  pole  from  end 
to  end  on  these  forks  ;  and  from  these  walls  to  the  pole  they  set 
up  poles  instead  of  rafters,  and  on  these  they  tied  small  poles  in 
place  of  laths,  and  a  cover  was  made  of  Iynn-bark,  which  will  run 
(peal)  even  in  the  winter-season.  At  the  end  of  these  walls  they 
set  up  split  timber,  so  that  they  had  timber  all  round,  excepting 
a  door  at  each  end :  at  the  top,  in  place  of  a  chimney,  they  left 
an  open  place,  and  for  bedding  they  laid  down  the  aforesaid  kind  of 
bark,  on  which  they  spread  bear-skins  :  from  end  to  end  of  this  hut, 
along  the  middle,  there  were  fires,  which  the  squaws  made  of  dry 
split  wood  ;  and  the  holes  or  open  places  that  appeared  the  squaws 
stopped  with  moss,  which  they  collected  from  old  logs,  and  at  the 
door  they  hung  a  bear-skin  ;  and  notwithstanding  the  winters  are 
hard  here,  our  lodging  was  much  better  than  I  expected." — Col. 
Smith's  Narrative. 

Note  J.— Page  227. 

"  In  this  month  we  began  to  make  sugar.  As  some  of  the 
elm-bark  will  strip  at  this  season,  the  squaws,  after  finding  a  tree 
that  would  do,  cut  it  down  ;  and  with  a  crooked  stick,  broad  and 
sharp  at  the  end,  took  the  bark  off  the  tree  ;  and  of  this  bark  made 
vessels  in  a  curious  manner,  that  would  hold  about  two  gallons 
each  :  they  made  about  one  hundred  of  these  kind  of  vessels.  In 
the  sugar-tree  they  cut  a  notch,  and  stuck  in  a  tomahawk  :  in  the 
place  where  they  stuck  the  tomahawk  they  drove  a  long  chip,  in 
order  to  carry  the  water  out  from  the  tree,  and  under  this  they  set 
their  vessel  to  receive  it ;  they  also  made  bark-vessels  for  carrying 

e  e  2 


330  APPENDIX. 

the  water,  that  would  hold  about  four  gallons  each  ;  they  had  two 
brass-kettles  that  held  about  fifteen  gallons  each,  and  other  smaller 
kettles,  in  which  they  boiled  the  water  as  fast  as  it  was  collected ; 
they  made  vessels  of  bark,  that  would  hold  about  100  gallons  each, 
for  containing  the  water  ;  and  though  the  sugar-trees  did  not  run 
every  day,  they  had  always  a  sufficient  quantity  of  water  to  keep 
them  boiling  during  the  whole  sugar-season." — Col.  Smith's 
Narrative. 

Note  K.— Page  237. 

The  town  of  Chicago  has  become  so  important  a  place,  and  is 
so  rapidly  developing  its  resources,  as  to  call  for  a  more  particu- 
lar notice  than  it  receives  in  the  text.    Its  sudden  strides  to  pros- 
perity can  be  best  estimated,  however,  by  first  perceiving  the  con- 
dition and  prospects  of  Chicago  as  they  presented  themselves  to 
Major  Long's  party  when  they  visited  it  ten  years  since.     "  The 
village  presents  no  cheering  prospect,  as,  notwithstanding  its  an- 
tiquity, it  consists  of  but  few  huts,  inhabited  by  a  miserable  race  of 
men,  scarcely  equal  to  the  Indians,  from  whom  they  are  descended. 
Their  log  or  bark-houses  are  low,  filthy,  and  disgusting,  display- 
ing not  the  least  trace  of  comfort.     Chicago  is,  perhaps,  one  of 
the  oldest  settlements  in  the  Indian  country.     A  fort  is  said  to 
have   formerly  existed  there :  mention  is  made  of  the  place  as 
having  been  visited  in  1671  by  Perot,  who  found  '  Chicagou'  to  be 
the  residence  of  a  powerful  chief  of  the  Miamis.     The  number  of 
trails  centring  all  at  this  spot,  and  their  apparent  antiquity,  indi- 
cate that  this  was  probably  for  a  long  while  the  site  of  a  large  In- 
dian village.     As  a  place  of  business,  it  offers  no  inducement  to 
the  settler  ;  for  the  whole  annual  amount  of  the  trade  on  the  lake 
did  not  exceed  the  cargo  of  five  or  six  schooners,  even  at  the  time 
when   the   garrison   received  its   supplies    from  Maciknaw." — 
Long's  Second  Expedition,  vol.  i.  p.  164. 

Contrast  this  desolate  picture — not  with  the  representation 
made  in  the  text,  but — with  the  existing  condition  of  the  place, 
with  the  alterations  that  have  taken  place  since  the  writer  left 
there,  not  yet  a  year  ago.  He  is  informed  by  a  gentleman  re- 
cently from  Illinois,  that  Chicago,  which  but  eighteen  months 
since  contained  but  two  or  three  frame-buildings,  and  a  few  miser- 


NOTES.  331 

able  huts,  has  now  five  hundred  houses,  four  hundred  of  which 
have  been  erected  this  year,  and  two  thousand  two  hundred  in- 
habitants. A  year  ago  there  was  not  a  place  of  public  worship 
in  the  town  ;  there  are  now  five  churches  and  two  school-houses, 
and  numerous  brick  stores  and  warehouses.  The  shipping-lists 
of  daily  arrivals  and  departures  show  how  soon  the  enterprise  and 
activity  of  our  citizens  have  discovered  and  improved  the  capa- 
bilities of  that  port.  There  have  been  three  hundred  arrivals  this 
year,  and  more  than  $50,000  worth  of  salt  has  been  sold  there 
this  season,  and  of  European  and  domestic  merchandise  to  the 
amount  of  $400,000.  A  line  of  four  steamboats  of  the  largest 
class  of  lake-boats,  and  regular  lines  of  brigs  and  fschooners,  are 
now  established  between  that  port  and  the  principal  ports  of  the 
lower  lakes. 

It  is  gratifying  to  hear  of  such  improvement  in  the  western 
country,  and  to  have  predictions  so  recently  made  of  the  growth 
and  prosperity  of  this  point  in  particular,  thus  far  more  than 
fulfilled. 

Note  L.— Page  243. 

The  Indians  that  frequent  the  neighbourhood  of  Chicago  (pro- 
nounced Tshicawgo),  though  not  so  numerous,  are  composed  of  the 
same  mixture  of  different  tribes  which  Major  Long  noticed  ten 
years  since.  They  are  chiefly  Pottawattamies  and  Ottawas,  with 
a  few  Chippewas  (6-che-pe-wa.g)  and  a  straggling  Kickapoo  or 
Miami ;  and  a  great  admixture  of  the  different  languages  (or 
rather  dialects,  for  they  are  radically  the  same)  of  the  three  first 
prevails  there.  Among  them  are  many  who  have  borne  arms 
against  the  Americans  ;  and  some  who,  doubtless,  took  a  part  in 
the  massacre  at  the  fall  of  the  place  in  1812.  The  particulars  of 
that  bloody  affair  are  yet  mentioned  with  horror  by  the  old  settlers. 
They  may  be  briefly  summed  up  as  follows  : — 

It  was  soon  after  the  infamous  surrender  of  General  Hull  at 
Detroit,  when,  in  pursuance  of  the  terms  entered  into  with  the 
enemy  by  that  officer,  who  was  commandant-in-chief  upon  the 
north-west*  frontier,  Captain  Heald,  the  commandant  at  Chicago, 
prepared  to  surrender  his  post  to  the  British.  The  Pottawatta- 
mies,   and   other  hostile    Indians    in  the  vicinity,  were  on  the 


332  APPENDIX. 

watch  for  the  movement ;   and  on  the  morning  when  the  garrison 
evacuated  the  place,  they  had  so  completely  succeeded  in  duping 
Captain  Wells,  the  credulous  and  unfortunate  Indian  agent,  that 
the  fatal  march  of  the  15th  October,  1812,  was  precipitated  by  his 
advice.     The   Americans  were   about  seventy  in  number,  with 
several  women   and  children  ;  and  they  were  escorted  from  the 
shelter  of  the  fort  by  a  band  of  about  thirty  Miamies.     The  road 
led   along  the   beach   of  the  lake,  with  those   short   sand-hills 
spoken  of  in  a  previous  letter  extending  along  the  route  between 
the  lake  and  the  open  prairie.     Behind  these  the  British  Indians 
lay  concealed  ;  and  when  the  Americans  had  proceeded  about  a 
mile   from  the  fort,  the  wily  enemy  sprang  from  his  lair,   and 
poured  down  a  murderous  fire  upon  the  beach.     Captain  Heald 
immediately  brought  his  men  to  a  charge,  and  drove  the  Indians 
from  the  nearest  sand-hill ;  but  their  numbers  were  so  great  that 
they  formed  instantly  again  upon  his  flank.     His  party  was  sur- 
rounded ;  and  while  the  Miamies  in  a  manner  withdrew  their  pro- 
tection, and  helped  to  swell  the  number  of  his  opponents,  the  little 
force  of  Captain  Heald  was  completely  cut  off  from  the  women 
and  children,  who  were  cowering  beneath  the  baggage  on  the 
lake-shore.     The  Americans  fought  with  desperation  ;  but  such  a 
handful  of  men  was  soon  cut  to  pieces  ;  and  scarcely  a  man  sur- 
vived to  witness  the  atrocities  that  were  practised  upon  the  help- 
less creatures  upon  the  beach.     There  were   four  officers  killed 
upon  the  spot ;   Captain    Heald  and  his  wife  were  both  badly 
wounded  ;  and  twelve  children*  were  butchered  on  the  shore,  or 
shared  the  fate  of  their  mothers,  who  ran  shrieking  over  the  prai- 
rie.    The  unhappy  Indian  agent,  who  was  among  the  slain,  is 
said  to  have  had  his  breast  cut  open,  and  his  heart  roasted  and 
eaten  by  the  savage  foe. 

Note  M. — Page  245. 

"  The  Chicago  River,  which  is  about  two  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  wide,  has  sufficient  depth  of  water  for  lake-vessels  to  where 
it  forks  in  the  centre  of  the  town.  The  southern  and  principal 
branch  takes  its  rise  about  six  miles  from  the  fort  in  a  swamp, 

*  Captain  Heald's  Letter,  dated  Pittsburg,  Oct.  23, 1812. 


NOTES.  333 

which  communicates  also  with  the  Des  Plaines,  one  of  the  head 
branches  of  the  Illinois.  This  swamp,  which  is  designated  by  the 
Canadian  voyageurs  as  Le  Petit  Lac,  is  navigable  at  certain  sea- 
sons of  the  year:  it  has  been  frequently  travelled  by  traders  in 
their  pirogues ;  and  a  batteau  from  St.  Louis,  loaded  with  provisions 
for  the  garrison  at  Chicago,  has  through  this  medium  passed 
from  the  Mississippi  into  Lake  Michigan.  Major  Long  observes, 
upon  passing  through  this  marsh  in  a  canoe,  "  we  were  delighted 
at  beholding  for  the  first  time  a  feature  so  interesting  in  itself, 
but  which  we  had  afterward  an  opportunity  of  observing  fre- 
quently on  the  route  ;  viz.  the  division  of  waters  starting  from 
the  same  source  and  running  in  two  different  directions,  so  as  to 
become  the  feeders  of  streams  that  discharge  themselves  into  the 
ocean  at  immense  distances  apart.  *  *  *  *  *  When  we 
consider  the  facts  above  stated,  we  are  irresistibly  led  to  the  con- 
clusion, that  an  elevation  of  the  lakes  a  few  feet  (not  exceeding 
ten  or  twelve)  above  their  present  level,  would  cause  them  to  dis- 
charge their  waters,  partly  at  least,  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 
That  such  a  discharge  has  at  one  time  existed,  every  one  conver- 
sant with  the  nature  of  the  country  must  admit ;  and  it  is  equally 
apparent  that  an  expenditure  trifling  in  comparison  to  the  impor- 
tance of  the  object  would  again  render  Lake  Michigan  a  tributary 
of  the  Mexican  Gulf." 

Note  N .— Page  269. 

'  Mr.  Schoolcraft  says  that  no  female  captive  is  ever  saved  by 
the  Indians  from  base  motives,  or  need  fear  the  violation  of  her 
honour  :  "  The  whole  history  of  their  wars  may  be  challenged  for 
a  solitary  instance  of  the  violation  of  female  chastity.  When 
they  resolve  to  spare  life,  they  also  resolve  to  spare  that  reputa- 
tion without  which  life  is  not  worth  possessing.  They  treat 
them  with  kindness  and  attention,  carrying  them  dry  across  rivers, 
and  directing,  what  with  them  is  accounted  an  act  of  distinguished 
attention,  that  their  hair  shall  be  combed  every  morning.  The 
precise  leason  for  this  trait  of  their  character  has  never  been 
fully  explained.  Innate  principles  of  virtue  can  hardly  be  sup- 
posed to  be  sufficient  to  produce  so  universal  an  effect,  though  it 
would  be  uncharitable  to  deny  that  they  have  their  share.     It  is 


334  APPENDIX. 

asserted  that  the  Indians  believe  that  the  taking  such  a  dis- 
honourable advantage  of  their  female  prisoners  would  have  the 
effect  to  destroy  their  luck  in  hunting.  It  would  be  considered 
as  a  trait  of  weakness  and  effeminacy  in  a  warrior,  unworthy  of 
his  fame  and  reputation  for  manly  achievement.  It  would  excite 
the  ridicule  of  his  companions,  and,  as  they  believe,  be  displeasing 
to  the  Great  Spirit." — Travels  in  the  Central  Portions  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi Galley,  page  394. 

Note  0.— Page  279. 

"  Starved  'Rock." — This  remarkable  isolated  hill,  termed  by 
the  French  voyageurs  Le  Rocher,  or  Rockfort  as  Mr.  Schoolcraft 
calls  it,  is  described  by  that  accurate  traveller  as  an  elevated  cliff 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  Illinois,  consisting  of  parallel  layers  of 
white  sandstone.  It  is  not  less  than  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
high,  perpendicular  on  three  sides,  and  washed  at  its  base  by  the 
river.  On  the  fourth  side  it  is  connected  with  the  adjacent  range 
of  bluffs  by  a  narrow  peninsular  ledge,  which  can  only  be  as- 
cended by  a  precipitous  winding  path.  The  summit  of  the  rock 
is  level,  and  contains  about  three-fourths  of  an  acre.  It  is  covered 
with  a  soil  of  several  feet  in  depth,  bearing  a  growth  of  young 
trees.  Strong  and  almost  inaccessible  by  nature,  this  natural 
battlement  was  the  scene  of  a  desperate  conflict  between  the 
fierce  and  haughty  Pottawattamies  and  one  band  of  the  Illinois 
Indians;  the  latter  fled  to  this  place  for  refuge  from  the  fury  of 
their  enemies.  The  post  could  not  be  carried  by  assault,  and 
tradition  says  that  the  besiegers  finally  attempted,  after  many 
repulses,  to  reduce  it  by  starvation.  This  siege,  as  is  remarked 
by  a  popular  writer,  is  singularly  characteristic  on  either  side 
of  those  remarkable  traits  of  savage  character,  undaunted  reso- 
lution and  insatiable  and  ever  vigilant  thirst  for  vengeance.  Its 
result  is  well  told  in  "  Tales  of  the  Border,"  the  newly  pub- 
lished work  of  Judge  Hall.  The  pangs  of  hunger,  the  tortures 
of  thirst,  pressed  upon  the  besieged  ;  but  they  maintained  their 
post  with  invincible  courage,  determined  rather  to  die  of  exhaus- 
tion than  to  afford  their  enemies  the  triumph  of  killing  them  in 
battle  or  exposing  them  at  the  stake.  Every  stratagem  which  they 
attempted  was  discovered  and  defeated.     The  scorching  sun  that 


NOTES.  335 

beat  upon  their  towering  hold  maddened  them  to  taste  the  cool 
stream  that  glided  beneath  it  ;  but  when  they  endeavoured  to 
procure  water  during  the  night  by  lowering  vessels  attached  to 
cords  of  bark  into  the  river,  the  vigilant  besiegers  detected  the 
design,  and  placed  a  guard  in  canoes  to  prevent  its  execution. 
They  all  perished — one,  and  one  only,  excepted.  The  last  sur- 
viving warriors  defended  the  entrance  so  well  that  the  enemy 
could  neither  enter  nor  discover  the  fatal  progress  of  the  work  of 
death  ;  and  when  at  last,  all  show  of  resistance  having  ceased, 
and  all  signs  of  life  disappeared,  the  victors  ventured  cautiously 
to  approach,  they  found  but  one  survivor — a  squaw,  whom  they 
adopted  into  their  own  tribe,  and  who  was  yet  living  when  the 
first  white  man  penetrated  this  region.* 

Note  P.— Page  292. 

"  The  usual  dress  of  the  men  (among  the  northern  tribes)  at 
the  present  day  consists  of  a  figured  cotton  shirt ;  a  blanket,  or 
a  French  capote  of  blue  cloth  ;  a  pair  of  blue,  green,  or  red  cloth 
metasses  or  letrwins  '■>  an  azeeaun  or  breech  cloth,  and  moccasins 
of  dressed  deer-skin.  The  metasses  are  generally  ornamented, 
and  a  garter  of  coloured  worsted  tied  around  the  knee.  The  front 
fold  of  the  azeeaun  is  also  ornamented  around  the  edges.  A 
necklace  of  wampum,  or  a  silver  crescent,  or  both,  are  often  worn 
together  with  silver  arm-bands  and  wrist-bands.  The  latter  are 
not  exclusively  confined  to  chiefs,  so  far  as  we  have  observed, 
but  their  use  depends  rather  upon  the  ability  of  the  individual  to 
purchase  them.  Ear-rings  are  common  to  both  sexes.  A  knife 
is  commonly  worn  in  a  scabbard  confined  under  the  string  or 
narrow  belt  which  sustains  both  the  azeeaun  and  the  me- 
tasses. The  head  is  ornamented  with  a  band  of  skin  dressed 
with  the  hair  or  pelt  on,  surmounted  with  feathers.  In  this 
respect  there  seems  to  be  less  uniformity  than  in  any  other  part 
of  their  costume.  Often  the  head-piece  is  wanting.  Longhair 
is  prevalent.  It  is  sometimes  braided,  and  ornamented  with 
silver  brooches.  Paints  are  still  used  for  the  face,  both  for  the 
purposes  of  dress  and  mourning.  Each  Indian  youth,  from  the 
time  he  is  acknowledged  as  a  hunter,  capable  of  supporting  him- 

*  Charlevoix,  Schoolcraft,  Hall. 


336  APPENDIX. 

self,  ordinarily  carries  a  pipe,  and  a  skipetagun,  or  tobacco-pouch. 
This  pouch  is  commonly  the  entire  skin  of  an  otter,  lynx,  or 
other  small  animal,  dressed  with  the  pelt  on  ;  and  drawing  an 
aperture  upon  the  throat,  this  sack,  besides  the  usual  quantity  of 
tobacco  and  smoking-weed  (kinnekinic),  commonly  contains  a 
fire-steel,  flint,  and  bit  of  spunk,  and  sometimes  a  knife.  But 
this  appendage  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the  sacred  Meta- 
wiiaun,  or  medicine-sack,  which  is  the  consecrated  repository, 
not  only  of  his  medicines,  but  also  of  his  personal  manitos  and 
relics." — Schoolcraft's  Travels  in  the  Central  Portions  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi  Valley. 

Note  Q.— Page  297. 

Robertson,  Charlevoix,  and  other  European  writers  mention 
that  the  American  Indians  have  naturally  no  beards.  Mr.  School- 
craft, in  observing  that  a  beard  is  less  common  to  our  aborigines 
than  to  the  natives  of  Europe  or  Asia,  ascribes  its  absence  chiefly 
to  the  fashion  of  plucking  it  out  in  early  life.  "  It  is  esteemed 
necessary  to  the  decency  of  appearance,  among  the  young  and 
middle-aged,  to  remove  the  beard  ;  and  as  the  razor  is  unknown  to 
them,  they  employ  the  only  means  at  command  to  eradicate  it. 
Hence  it  is  more  common  to  see  beards  upon  old  men,  who  be- 
come careless  and  neglectful  of  personal  appearance.  Of  the 
Indians  of  the  Algonquin  stock,  the  Chippewas  are  perhaps  the 
most  exempted  from  beards,  the  Ottawas  less  so,  and  the  Potta- 
wattamies  still  less.  Among  the  two  last  tribes  there  is  a  custom 
sufficiently  frequent,  though  not  universal,  of  letting  the  beard 
grow  only  upon  the  under  lip,  or  upon  the  chin,  from  which  it 
depends  in  a  compact  lock,  or  a  kind  of  bunch." — Travels  in  the 
Mississippi  Valley. 

Note  R  —  Page  316. 

The  Winnebagoes,  as  they  are  the  most  savage-looking,  are 
among  the  haughtiest  of  the  tribesmen.  They  differ  in  many 
respects  from  the  neighbouring  clans  ;  and  Carver  says,  that  in  his 
time  there  was  a  tradition  in  the  country  that  the  nation  sprung 
from   "  some  strolling,  band  from  the  Mexican  countries."     In 


NOTES.  337 

"  Long's  Expedition"  they  are  mentioned  as  being  of  distinct 
origin  from  the  Algonquin  tribes,  and  their  language  is  said  to  pre- 
sent greater  difficulties  than  any  of  the  northern  dialects.  "  It 
abounds,"  says  that  work,  "  in  harsh  and  guttural  sounds,  and 
in  the  letter  r,  which  does  not  appear  to  be  common  in  the  Algon- 
quin languages.  It  is  difficult  to  obtain  correct  information  con- 
cerning the  manners  and  characters  of  the  Winnebagoes,  as  a 
strong  prejudice  appears  to  prevail  against  them.  They  are  con- 
sidered unfriendly  to  white  men,  and  this,  instead  of  being 
viewed  in  the  light  of  a  favourable  trait  of  their  character,  as 
indicative  of  a  high  spirit  which  can  resent  injustice  and  oppres- 
sion, and  which  will  not  crouch  before  the  aggressor,  has  been 
the  occasion  of  much  ill-will  towards  them." — Long's  Expedi- 
tion, page  216. 

The  custom  of  blacking  the  face  by  way  of  mourning,  as 
mentioned  in  the  text,  is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  the  Winne- 
bagoes : — 

"The  Indians  are  particular  in  their  demonstrations  of  grief 
for  departed  friends ;  the}'  consist  in  darkening  their  faces  with 
charcoal,  fasting,  abstaining  from  the  use  of  vermilion,  and  other 
ornaments  in  dress,  &c.  ;  they  also  make  incisions  in  their  arms, 
legs,  and  other  parts  of  the  body.  These  are  not  made  for  the 
purposes  of  mortification,  or  to  create  a  pain  which  shall,  by 
dividing  their  attention,  efface  the  recollection  of  their  loss ;  but 
entirely  from  a  belief  that  their  grief  is  internal,  and  that  the  only 
way  of  dispelling  it  is  to  give  it  a  vent  through  which  to  escape." 
— Ibid,  page  226. 


END  OF  VOL.   I. 


